


If the Right One Came Along

by useyourtelescope



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke Bingo, But mostly fluff, Clarke and Bellamy are in their 30s and still figuring stuff out, Cuddling, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Historian Bellamy, Librarian Clarke, Mild Smut, Romance, Small Towns, the subtitle of this fic could be everyone loves Clarke, whether that's platonic/romantic/etc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 16:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 77,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useyourtelescope/pseuds/useyourtelescope
Summary: It had been over a decade since Bellamy Blake moved away, but everyone in town still remembered him.At least, that’s what they’ve all said ever since he became a famous historian, with a book and a popular docuseries on Netflix under his belt.Clarke, however, had never forgotten her old partner in crime at the library. She’s so proud of everything Bellamy has accomplished even though they lost touch a long time ago.But now, Bellamy is back and seemingly interested in more than just Clarke’s friendship, and Clarke can’t say that she minds. A casual relationship sounds like just the kind of fun she needs right now.The fact that it’s with her former best friend-slash-crush isn’t a big deal. After all, their arrangement is only for the few weeks he’s in town before he returns to his celebrity life. That’s definitely not enough time for her to fall for him again…Semi-Finalist in Celebrities AU and Round 1 Winner in Fluff WIP & Modern WIP at the 2019 Bellarke Fan Work Awards





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very excited to share my first Bellarke Bingo fic with you all! This is a bit different for me in terms of long fic; for one thing, unlike my other Bellarke multi-chapters, there is no crime sub-plot lol. I wanted to write something soft, which I am enjoying.
> 
> The main tags I'm using from my prompt board are 'Library AU' and 'Friends with Benefits', but some of the other prompts will be featured too. I will add tag them as they appear in the fic.
> 
> Thanks to [megaphonemonday](https://megaphonemonday.tumblr.com) for beta'ing and to [Pawprinterfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pawprinter) & [eyessharpweaponshot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyessharpweaponshot) for hosting Bellarke Bingo!
> 
> I'll be sharing a few songs that were on my writing playlist; the first provided inspo for this fic & title and is by one of my favourite bands - [I've Got This Friend](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q6EX3zZUzmI&list=OLAK5uy_lRaB-TAuqgwG27rXtPr6yA3NISec4NuA4&index=2) by The Civil Wars.  


“Have you heard about Bellamy coming back?”

It was clearly an innocent question on Lincoln’s part, but when Clarke responded by staring blank-faced at him, he mistook her surprise for confusion.

“Bellamy Blake,” he added. “You guys had some crossover at the library before you graduated, right?”

“We did,” Clarke replied, finally finding her voice. She had only popped into Lincoln’s café to grab a pastry on her way to work at that same library; she was not awake enough yet to handle such big news. “I… I hadn’t heard. Do you still keep in touch with Octavia then?” It had been a while since Lincoln had mentioned Bellamy’s younger sister.

They were only a short distance apart, separated merely by the counter, so she could clearly see how his face lost some of its lightness at her question. “A little. It’s hard to talk regularly, what with her backpacking all over the world. But I didn’t hear it from her.”

“Oh?”

Clarke couldn’t think of anyone else they knew who would be a reliable source on the subject. Some of the ladies in town used to cross paths with Bellamy’s mother regularly when she still lived in Polis, but it had been a few years since Aurora Blake had sold the house and moved to Spain. Vera Kane had been the closest to Aurora, so they might still keep in touch, but Vera was notoriously suspicious of technology, and very possibly lacked the patience to keep up a snail mail correspondence at such a distance.

There was Bellamy’s ex-wife who lived a few towns over, having returned from LA following the divorce. But one of the few things Clarke knew about Gina Martin was that she was notoriously tight-lipped on any information relating to Bellamy, particularly since his sharp rise in fame over the last eighteen months. No one knew if they even still kept in touch, or so Clarke had heard some ladies at the council gossiping once.

Besides, this wasn’t the first time Clarke had heard a rumour circulating about a possible visit from Bellamy and none of the others had turned out to be true. It seemed unlikely that Bellamy would visit now when he had never managed the trip while his mother and sister were still in the area. Clarke had long ago stopped getting her hopes up when she heard whispers of his return.

But this time it was from Lincoln, the last person Clarke expected to spread gossip. He must believe the information reliable to be sharing it.

“Diana’s nephew saw him in Polis on Saturday; at least five people told me yesterday,” Lincoln explained.

Clarke’s hand tightened on her purse reflexively. “_Saw_ him? Wait, you mean— I thought you said he was _coming_ back,” Clarke stressed. “As in, about to come back.”

As in, not here yet. As in, Clarke still had time to figure out how to occupy the same space as Bellamy Blake after twelve years.

“Oh, no, sorry that’s my mistake,” Lincoln clarified, an easy smile on his face. “He’s renting one of the Kane apartments; Vera confirmed it when she popped in. He apparently got in touch with her a couple weeks ago, and she’s been dying to tell everyone but couldn’t until Bellamy moved in at the weekend.”

And then, as if he hadn’t just dropped a massive bombshell on her, Lincoln read out Clarke’s bill.

The thing about Clarke’s relationship with Bellamy Blake was… Well, it was complicated.

She had known who he was for as long as she could remember, thanks to an early friendship with Octavia when they were in nursery school together. Bellamy had been around a lot, always coming to pick Octavia up from school instead of their mom, and he must have made some kind of impression. Apparently, she kept telling her parents she wanted a sibling just like Octavia, though Clarke had no memory of it.

When the Blakes moved away the year before middle school, she and Octavia made a few attempts at writing letters to one another, but soon lost touch. After that, Clarke would think about her old friend Octavia occasionally if something reminded her of the girl, but Bellamy barely crossed her mind.

Not until she started working at the library.

She hadn’t _needed_ a job per se—both her parents had lucrative careers, not to mention rich parents of their own—but a few arguments with her mother over broken curfews during junior year had led to a severe reduction in her allowance, and thus no money for anything Abigail Griffin didn’t think strictly necessary. Since that included art supplies—deemed a “trifling hobby that was interrupting her studies”—Clarke had decided an independent income was her best option. She’d expected to only work there a month or so, until Abby cooled down and loosened the purse strings. However, Clarke soon found she’d grown to like working at the library. She was only the second staff member under forty, but no one talked down to her, and they even appreciated her artistic skills to help them with displays.

The only problem had been the other young staff member: Bellamy Blake.

The library was where she and Bellamy had met properly; where they’d gone from hating each other—leaving passive aggressive (or sometimes openly aggressive) notes for the other to find on their next shift or doing things wrong on purpose to annoy the other—to friends.

The place where Clarke had eventually developed more than friendly feelings for him.

Where she’d lost the nerve to tell him about those feelings that last summer after she finished high school too.

It was even the library where Clarke still worked, all these years later.

There’d been a break when she went off to college, but as much as Pike had modernised since taking over, with Clarke’s assistance, she still had plenty of memories of Bellamy Blake there.

She didn’t think about those memories regularly anymore; she didn’t walk into the stacks and remember laughing with Bellamy as they re-shelved books, or go to the store cupboard and recall yelling at him that time he got them trapped inside. Those memories had become like the scratches on the tables; she knew them so well that she no longer saw them for looking.

Most days, however, she had no reason to be thinking of Bellamy Blake at work. After Lincoln’s news, Clarke had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to put him out of her mind.

Still, she hadn’t expected to be set upon as soon as she set foot into the building.

Clarke had barely heard the swish of the door swinging shut behind her when her boss, Charles Pike, marched up to her. “Clarke! There you are. You know how I’ve been wanting to host more author events?”

Normally, she would return such a greeting with a sarcastic “Good morning to you too,” and talk around him until she was ready to hear his news. Today, Clarke paled and returned a simple, “Yes.”

“Well, Bellamy Blake is back, and he’s happy to put in an appearance.”

“You’ve already asked him?” Clarke gaped. It wasn’t a surprise that people were already clamouring for a piece of Arcadia’s only claim to fame, but to have agreed something so soon? Vera and Pike were basically frenemies, so Clarke couldn’t imagine Vera had given him advance notice of Bellamy’s arrival when she’d kept it from everyone else. Pike worked Sundays, though, so he must have heard the news yesterday. Still, Clarke couldn’t quite believe Pike had wrangled an appearance out of Bellamy after he’d been in the county not even two days.

If only her boss was normally that efficient on her day off.

“Actually, I asked him a while ago,” Pike revealed. “You remember when his book launched? I told you my idea for him to do a signing here.”

Clarke did remember that, as well as, “I’m pretty sure I told you that wasn’t a good idea.” She still stood by that, as a business decision. Whatever her personal feelings about the possibility of seeing Bellamy Blake again—and they had been complicated, but mostly positive—were, Clarke didn’t think a book signing in Arcadia would have done much for him or the library. At least, not back when the book had just come out and no one knew who he was.

Perhaps she should have realised there was more to the story when Pike hadn’t suggested it again after Bellamy became the breakout star of a popular history docuseries.

“Well, I did it anyway.”

Clarke fought the urge to roll her eyes. “And he said, _‘Yeah I’ll stop by in a few years’_?” she snarked. She started walking to the back office, not waiting to see if Pike would follow her.

He did, finishing his explanation on the way. “His agent declined because of his busy schedule, _but_ said he’d let me know if Bellamy was ever going to be in the area.”

“Seriously?” To Clarke, that just sounded like a polite way of rejecting the invitation. “His agent got back to you now he’s here?”

“No, Mr. Blake himself did.”

“He did?” Clarke squeaked, dropping her bag onto the office table, clumsier than intended.

Pike moved to stand in front of her, so she could see his proud grin. “He said he would be happy to fit it in while he’s here.”

“So, it’s a short visit then?” Clarke ventured.

“He didn’t say. But you can ask him yourself. He’s going to come in tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Clarke could feel the colour draining from her face.

“Yes.” Pike’s grin grew wider. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? Now, what do you think of my poster idea?” Pike asked, moving to pick up the beige card resting against the wall.

Clarke had a sudden flash of designing posters for the library when she’d been in high school. Now she always worked on her designs by herself, and she liked it that way, but back then Bellamy had always helped. In truth, he had slowed her down more often than not, as she usually ended up correcting his mistakes, but she had never regretted his company. He’d always kept her spirits up when she was feeling uninspired and made her laugh constantly. The memory of them designing the posters for the last event they worked on together, snickering as they tried to subtly scribble on each other without their old boss noticing, gave her a sudden pang of sadness for something she knew she wouldn’t have again.

Thankfully when Pike flipped the card to reveal the other side, his proposed design made her too amused to be sad. The card was blank except for where he’d written _Bellamy Blake Comes Home_ in big, bold letters across the middle.

Torn between the urge to snort or gag at his suggested tagline, she said, “No.” Pike had gotten used to her bluntness by now. “We can’t use that.”

“Well, that’s why I need you, our resident artist, to come up with something. I’m going to promote this event county-wide.”

Pike had moved to Arcadia in Clarke’s first year of college and took over the library while she wasn’t there. His tenure crossed over with Bellamy’s for the grand period of one whole week. But he was always hunting for ways to promote the library–“we must stay relevant in these digital times, Clarke,” he loved to say—so of course when someone who used to work there published a book, Pike couldn’t just _buy_ it. He had promoted it on release, with almost half of the energy he put into the release of the new Harry Potter play’s script, just a year later.

Never mind that it was a 700-plus-page non-fiction book ostensibly focusing on stolen goods and property in Ancient Greek and Roman times that managed to cover everything from domestic arrangements to legal systems in minute detail. Most of their regular readers of the history section were too frail to hold up a hardback that heavy.

Clarke had managed to talk Pike down into buying just three copies for the library instead of his initially suggested five. (Of course, she did then purchase two copies as gifts for her mom and Wells, in addition to buying a personal copy, out of guilt for not supporting Bellamy enough.) The reader response justified her recommendation; although the locals liked to talk about how “interesting” it was that “that Blake boy” had written a book, most of them weren’t actually interested in reading it.

Or they weren’t until Bellamy appeared on television.

Clarke still didn’t know how Bellamy had gone from a modestly successful, but mostly unknown, author and history professor to a featured participant on a five-part docuseries on cable television, but that had been the turning point in his level of fame.

She’d cancelled their cable subscription after her father had passed away, but had renewed it to watch the show _SPQR_ especially. A docuseries about Ancient Roman civilization hadn’t particularly sounded like her thing, and Clarke figured she’d probably have to pay attention to keep up with the historical details. In reality, she’d been sucked in.

Clarke remembered Bellamy as a good storyteller—not just from when he read stories in the library’s youth programs, but also when he’d finally let her read some of his writing. It had all been fiction back then, which she’d found more compelling than his published book. In all honesty, Clarke hadn’t fully connected with the tome still taking up space on her bookshelf. In person however, even on television, Bellamy still had the same vibrancy in his explanations, no matter the subject matter—and Clarke definitely wasn’t the only one who noticed.

By the time the last episode of _SPQR_ aired, Clarke had heard of group screenings taking place in Arcadia and Polis so that those who didn’t have cable could watch. And while the ratings were average for the show’s initial run, the sleeper hit exploded in popularity once Netflix acquired the rights.

Clarke wasn’t very good at keeping up with social media, had only been on it to promote library events when she found a local student posting “OMG guys I just learnt the HOT historian from _SPQR_ went to my college!” Bellamy was one of a few historians on the show, but Clarke would have figured he was the one to inspire the level of emoji use that accompanied the tweet even if she hadn’t already known he’d attended that community college before he transferred to finish his studies in LA.

It wasn’t just the people in town who took note of Bellamy Blake, either. His profile increased to new heights when he started dating an up and coming actress who only went by her stage name Echo. In the run up to the second season premiere Clarke had regularly spotted Bellamy and Echo on the covers of the gossip mags while she waited in line at the grocery store.

When the premiere aired—still on cable in the US, but with each episode airing the following day across the globe via Netflix—it was clear the producers had noticed just how much he’d captivated audiences as Bellamy’s role had significantly increased in the new episodes, and his public appearances were scaled to match. He managed to avoid talking about his relationship for the two months of the press tour, spanning the increased season order of eight episodes, but that didn’t stop the mags from regularly printing new stories about the couple.

Not that Clarke ever read them, of course. She followed Bellamy’s career and public appearances closely because she was proud of him, but she wasn’t going to indulge in gossip about him. Even if she was extremely tempted to pick one up the day after Bellamy and Echo’s publicists put out a statement that their relationship had ended, a month after the season finished. Bellamy sightings soon petered out after that, and although Echo still occasionally made the cover of the gossip mags as she finished the international promotion of her new film, the focus turned to the latest celebrity couple.

The breakup hadn’t seemed remarkable at the time—except to certain fans who breathed a sigh of relief that he was single again—but after the combined exposure from the new season and the relationship, it had been oddly jarring to Clarke to have heard so little about Bellamy in the few weeks since.

She never expected Bellamy’s next official appearance could be at _Arcadia_ _L__ibrary_.

It was one thing not to escape thoughts of Bellamy at work—of course he was on her mind when everyone was talking about him and she was designing a poster to promote his upcoming visit—but it was infuriating when those thoughts followed her home. Living alone made it harder to avoid her thoughts, and she got so distracted from her latest painting that evening that she decided to go flick through Bellamy’s book. When she realised it was missing from the shelf, Clarke remembered she had loaned it to someone, though she struggled to recall to whom.

She was debating between trying to refocus on her painting or just giving up and re-watching an episode of the docuseries when her ringing phone made her jump. Which just annoyed her further since she and Harper had texted to schedule this call only yesterday.

“Hey!”

“Hi! Sorry I’m late,” Harper greeted.

A quick glance at the clock showed it was twenty minutes after the time they had agreed on. However, this wasn’t an unusual occurrence nowadays, and as always, Clarke reminded Harper, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. How are you guys doing?”

“Well, someone has _really_ been fighting sleep today, so that’s been fun,” she replied, sarcastic. “We’ll pay for it later, I’m sure, but Jordan’s chilled out again for now.”

Clarke made her way from her studio to the living room couch as Harper continued updating her on her day: attending a baby music group with Jordan and going to the store. Now that Monty was home from work, he was spending a bit of quality one-on-one time with Jordan while Harper got a short break. Not that Clarke really thought it should be called a break when she could hear Harper busying herself with laundry and cleaning and dinner preparations while she chatted.

“But how have you been?” Harper asked.

Clarke hummed. “Good,” she replied, trying to decide what to say to her friend. As they didn’t see each other as often as before baby Jordan Jasper Green was born, they’d taken to scheduling at least a quick chat to catch up. In truth, though, not much had happened since they had seen each other a week ago. “I bought that blazer I showed you a picture of.”

“Ooh, which colour did you go for in the end?”

“Navy.”

“Good choice, I bet that looks great on you. How’s work?”

Clarke bit her lip, unsure whether to talk about Bellamy. There wasn’t much to share yet, but she needed to talk about it with someone, and this was likely to be her only chance. She didn’t want to burden Harper with her weird, confusing feelings when she had so much going on in her life. At the same time, Harper herself had said she liked hearing about stuff other than her baby’s sleeping and pooping schedules. “It’s fine,” she said finally. “Do you remember me telling you that I knew Bellamy Blake when we were younger?”

“Err maybe. Sounds familiar; who is he again?” Harper asked.

Clarke had a momentary flash of indignation on Bellamy’s behalf that Harper didn’t recognise the name that she had to tamp down. Harper had a lot of other things on her mind at the moment, she knew who he was. “My friend from the library. He was on _SPQR_.”

“Oh, the hot one! Yeah, I remember, sorry. One of the women at my baby yoga class is obsessed with him, and when I said I had a friend who knew him back in the day, she was seething. It was hilarious!”

Clarke chuckled at that. “Hey, I didn’t lend you my copy of his book, did I?” she thought suddenly.

Harper hummed in thought. “I’m not sure. I know I took a few of your books last year, but I don’t think that was one. I’ll go have a look and get them back to you.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Clarke assured her, remembering the other books Harper had borrowed now. She didn’t think Bellamy’s had been among them. “I thought you hadn’t finished them yet?”

“I haven’t, but I honestly don’t know when I’m going to get around to them,” Harper noted. “I don’t mind if you want them back.”

“No, there’s no rush. I was just thinking about Bellamy’s book in particular because—well, he’s kind of in town,” Clarke said.

“Really? How cool! Did he message you?”

“Uh, no,” Clarke said quickly. “But he’s going to be at the library tomorrow. Pike got him to agree to do a talk while he’s here.”

“Oooh. That’ll be fun—right?”

“Yeah. I just— I feel kind of weird about it.”

“How come?” Harper asked. “I thought you said you guys had been close?”

“I did. We were,” Clarke confirmed. “I just—“

“Oh, sorry— One second hon!”

Clarke waited while she heard Harper shout something else to Monty. The timing made her second guess herself.

“Okay, I’m back, sorry ‘bout that.”

“If you need to go, then—“

“No, no,” Harper interrupted. “I just couldn’t find where Monty put something— Doesn’t matter, I found it now. Monty says hi by the way.”

“Tell him I say hi back.”

“I will. So, what were you going to say?”

“Just that— It’s been so long, you know? Since we last…” Clarke trailed off, realising she had been about to say ‘spoke’ when, in actual fact, their last communications had been purely email-based. It had been even longer since they had last spoken to one another. “Since we stopped keeping in touch,” she corrected.

“But you guys didn’t fall out or anything, right? You just lost touch.”

Clarke nodded before remembering Harper couldn’t see her. “Yeah.”

“Don’t you want to see him again?”

Clarke’s initial response was immediate, “I do. I— It’s been a long time, but I think it would be nice. To catch up.”

“And now you can,” Harper pointed out. “So, what’s there to feel weird about?”

_‘My massive crush on him that I never really resolved?’ _Clarke thought. _‘The fact that I’ve always wondered whether we might have become friends again if I’d finished grieving Dad in time to get back in touch with him before he became famous?’_

But those concerns were both too childish and too serious to get into with Harper right now.

She settled on, “Don’t you think it would be weird for me to seek him out after all this time?” That was something she’d come back to a lot over the last few years; even before Bellamy’s fame had made it feel impossible to reach out, she’d never known how to just pick up where their friendship had left off after so much silence.

“But you’re not seeking him out, he’s the one who’s coming to your hometown, to your place of work,” Harper noted. “I think it would be weirder if someone you used to be friends with showed up, and you basically ignored him.”

“Right, yeah,” Clarke said, breathing out. It sounded ridiculous when Harper put it like that. “Of course.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Clarke?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m fine. But, hey, enough about me. I want more cute Jordan stories.”

“All Jordan stories are cute stories.”

“But of course,” Clarke agreed solemnly and settled in to hear them.

The next morning, Clarke took far too long to get ready. It was all Bellamy’s fault. She should have been thinking about the work she had to do, not her outfit.

It absolutely did not matter what she wore to work, and though Clarke knew her work wardrobe like the back of her hand, she still kept wondering what would look best. Then, because she was annoyed with herself for trying to dress for Bellamy, she just put on a simple white blouse—the one with the drop-shoulder short sleeves as it was more casual than her other shirts—and the same grey pencil skirt she wore to work yesterday, feeling less dressed up wearing a repeat. Not that Bellamy would know what she wore yesterday, but it was the principle of the thing.

Clearly, she was a wreck.

Usually, when getting ready for work, Clarke followed up her SPF with a quick swipe of mascara and the lip balm that lived on her dresser before heading out. Today, Clarke dared to open the box containing the rest of her makeup. Trying to put on eyeliner for the first time in ages felt like a bad idea on a day she was already feeling a little shaky with nerves and short on time thanks to her prolonged clothing deliberations. Lip gloss seemed a safe bet, though; slightly nicer than what she normally wore but not so different, like lipstick, that her colleagues would think she’d tried to dress up for their guest. However, when Clarke uncapped the peachy tube, the applicator was completely dried out. A substance that might have been glossy in a past life flaked off onto her dressing table.

Well, she wouldn’t be mentioning that to anyone, Clarke thought as she screwed the cap back on. She hadn’t realised it had been quite _so_ long since she’d worn her makeup.

She brushed the flaked piece into the bin and ran her fingers through her hair. Her appearance was the same as any other day, which would have to do.

It was lucky that she had a busy morning because it left her no time to be distracted or stare at the clock wondering when Bellamy would arrive. On her way from sorting out reservations in the office to taking over from Sheila, a volunteer, on the checkout desk, Clarke took the long way around so that she could stop by the History section. Whereas normally at least two copies, if not all three, of Bellamy’s book lived on the shelf, none were to be seen. When she got to the checkout desk she had to wait a little to check the system as Sheila was in a chatty mood, pasting on a polite smile in response to the lady’s aimless ramblings. Once she managed to get on the system it confirmed that all had been checked out, the sudden flurry of interest undoubtedly related to Bellamy’s well-discussed return. She was briefly annoyed at herself for being so blindsided yesterday that she hadn’t thought to look for it then; although it wouldn’t matter if she could remember what she had done with her own copy.

A flurry of activity prevented Clarke from thinking about it too closely, but a few hours later, the answer appeared before her.

“Hi, Clarke!”

She looked up from her paperwork to see Charlotte and Madi beaming over at her from the other side of the counter. Well, Charlotte was beaming. Madi was tight-lipped with a very slight upturn at the corners of her mouth; what she deemed a smile ever since she had turned thirteen last year.

“Hello, girls,” Clarke said, her own smile falling somewhere in between the two. “Are those to check out?” she asked, noting the stack in Charlotte’s hands.

“Yeah! Can we borrow these please?” she said, passing over a small pile of comics.

“Of course. Do you have your card?”

When Charlotte couldn’t seem to find hers amongst everything else in her bag, Madi offered her own. As Madi had been adopted by her best friend Charlotte’s parents years ago, it was easy for them to share their checkouts.

After scanning the proffered card, Clarke started sorting through the _Captain Marvel_ volumes and smiled when she saw a couple of different titles underneath. “I didn’t know you guys had started _Ms. Marvel_.”

“We haven’t yet, but Dani said they were good.”

“And we’ve already read all the other _Captain Marvel_s the library has,” Madi said. “Are you going to get any more?”

“I’ve spoken to Pike about it,” Clarke assured them as she started checking the comics out. “We will be, but we need to sort our next order out still. So, if there’s any specific ones you guys are interested in just let me know and I’ll see if I can get them.”

“We will!” Charlotte said excitedly.

“So, how was school?” Clarke asked as she continued scanning.

“Good,” Charlotte enthused. “Mrs. Wilson gave us an A on our last history project.”

“Oh, and she showed us a clip from _SPQR_ yesterday. And then Leilani said that Bellamy Blake had moved back to Arcadia. Is that really true?” Madi asked.

“Not exactly,” Clarke began, at which Madi turned to Charlotte with a ‘S_ee?’_ expression on her face, so she hurriedly continued, “I believe he’s staying in Polis. And just to visit, he hasn’t moved back.”

“Madi told me you used to be friends,” Charlotte said, leadingly.

“Yeah, we— Oh, Madi,” Clarke interrupted herself when realisation hit. “I lent you his book didn’t I?” When Madi nodded, she asked, “Have you finished it yet?”

“No. I forgot I had it until people started talking about him again yesterday. I don’t think it’s really for me.”

“I don’t know why,” Charlotte said. “it’s so good!”

“Oh, you read it too?” Clarke asked. She knew it was well above a middle school reading level, but the girls were both advanced readers and interested in classical civilizations.

She had only been half-convinced Madi would read it. It had come up a few months ago when Madi had been in the library working on a science project that Clarke had ended up helping her with. Madi had idly mentioned Mrs. Wilson showing them an excerpt from the series and Clarke offered her to lend the book. At least one of the girls had some positive feedback for it. Clarke didn’t like to hear Bellamy’s book put down, regardless of the fact that she hadn’t gotten around to finishing it either.

As much as Bellamy’s writing had enlivened the subject matter better than any historical non-fiction she had tried reading in the past, she just couldn’t get through the book. She had dipped in and out of passages since, but having forgotten the context of the earlier events, Clarke always realised she would need to start over from the beginning to really follow along. And that had just seemed too daunting a prospect. Until, perhaps, now.

Charlotte nodded. “I only started it last night, but I love it! I don’t know when I can finish it, though. We’ve got so much homework this week.” She frowned. “You don’t mind if we keep it a little longer, right, Clarke?”

“No, of course not,” Clarke replied as she slid the stack of comics back over to them. A part of her was itching to have another look through the book, but that was probably just nerves at the prospect of seeing Bellamy again that afternoon.

After saying goodbye to the girls, Clarke’s eyes caught on Sheila shelving books on the other side of the room. It was a mundane task that they did daily, but today for the first time in years the sight reminded Clarke of a game she and Bellamy had played. They’d taken to picking up a book off the trolley at random and made the other come up with a summary for it based on the cover alone. Bellamy’s story suggestions were always much more creative than hers, but he was the writer after all.

With a sigh, Clarke turned her head down to the desk and tried to refocus on her paperwork. She wasn’t going to get anything done if she let her mind wander down that road. And yet, even something as ordinary as sticking post-its on different piles of forms reminded Clarke of Bellamy. When she’d first started at the library, they hadn’t actually shared a shift for a few weeks, but they’d both had to finish off the other’s work. In their first written communication, Clarke had left him a post-it explaining what he had done wrong in so much detail that the only space she’d had left to sign it was simply ‘C’. His curt response had been signed ‘B’ and it had morphed into a habit; they’d continued to sign their notes, and later emails, to each other with just their initial even after their correspondence became friendly. As she stared at the post-it she’d just signed off as ‘Clarke’, the letters of her name started to look odd to her.

Of course, Clarke then realised if she was starting to question the appearance of even her own _name_ she was definitely letting herself get carried away.

Clarke wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or relieved that the printer broke down five minutes before Bellamy was supposed to arrive. If it had been the office printer, she could have ignored it until later, but as it was the public one, she had to sort the problem out, and quickly. Which meant she was too busy to join Pike as he busied himself with tasks near the entrance in expectation of their guest’s arrival.

Her attempts at rebooting and tinkering with the printer were interrupted by three separate trips to the back office to print out documents for library patrons—annoyingly keeping her just out of sight of the front door and anyone who might walk through it. Not only that but they all wanted to make conversation with her, meaning Clarke couldn’t try and listen out for their visitor; occasionally, Pike’s voice carried, but Clarke wasn’t able to hone in on the details as she dealt with patrons.

Twenty minutes later, she and the library had a working printer again. Clarke grinned as she scrunched up her test papers into a ball and took aim at the recycling bin that was farther away. When the ball sailed through the air and fell cleanly into its narrow mouth, Clarke let out a little whoop of triumph.

“Here she is.” Pike’s voice interrupted her minor victory. Clarke spun on her heel to find he was marching towards her, and he wasn’t alone.

She’d seen plenty of pictures of Bellamy over the last twelve years, especially in the last few months, but there was something different about seeing him in person, having him so near. Gone was the beard that he’d sported in the latest season of the show, and seeing him clean-shaven again immediately took her back to their shared library days. Maybe because it made him look younger than his thirty-five years, even if the rest of his appearance showed the difference time had brought upon him. His hair was a bit neater than he’d worn it back then, though still gloriously curly. Instead of the contacts he’d previously favoured, Bellamy wore the same glasses that had spawned numerous memes thanks to a few choice screenshots from the docuseries. His green sweater stretched comfortably over his broad frame. Perhaps it was an odd thing to notice, but it was his posture more than anything that stood out to Clarke. He stood taller than he had in those days; more confident and sure of himself. It was a good look on him.

“I believe you worked together back in the day,” Pike began as the group, because it wasn’t just Bellamy at his side, approached her. “You might not remember—“

“Of course I remember Clarke.”

As soon as Bellamy locked eyes with her and grinned, a weird fluttering commenced in her chest.

This was exactly what she had been worrying about; there was no reason her ridiculous crush from more than a decade ago should resume just because Bellamy was in town again. He might be even more handsome than she remembered, but he was only here on a short visit. No need to get attached.

“Clarke?”

Her repeated name and his slightly dropped smile made her flush with the realisation that she’d been too busy staring and internally monologuing to even reply.

“Hi, Bellamy,” she said quickly, smiling wide. She resisted the urge to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Nice to see you again.”

“Hey,” he replied warmly, that brilliant smile returning in full force. If he’d only added ‘girl’ onto the end of his statement, it would have been the most popular meme of him come to life, giving Ryan Gosling a run for his money.

Geez, no wonder his show had become one of Netflix’s most watched informative programs. At least Bellamy was using his powers for good. Assuming that people were paying enough attention to learn something rather than just swooning over him.

“It’s good to see you too. I didn’t realise you still worked here,” he continued.

She nodded, though the sheen came off a little at his comment. It was said completely kindly, but leave it to Bellamy Blake to find Clarke’s weak spot right out of the gate.

“Yeah, still here,” she said, a wide smile of her own plastered on for their audience’s benefit.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet,” a voice behind Pike piped up.

She hadn’t given the other two members of the party much thought as they approached, but Clarke allowed her gaze to settle on them now. As a member of Arcadia’s town council, part of Bree’s role was to liaise with the library, so Clarke had met her plenty of times before. It was the man standing next to her that Clarke didn’t recognise, though the lanyard he wore around his neck suggested he was some sort of local official.

“Clarke Griffin is our Senior Librarian.” Pike then introduced Sterling, the new Improvement Officer at the county council, which explained why she hadn’t met him before.

“Hi,” she said, and when he reached to shake hands, she moved to return the gesture, but stopped as soon as she noticed the black ink spotting her skin. “Sorry,” she apologised, quickly grabbing the rag she’d left on the desk to wipe her hands. “Printer issues.”

“Clarke’s the person to go to whenever you need help around here,” Pike said helpfully as she finally shook Sterling’s hand. “She’s my right-hand woman.”

Since they had company, Clarke only smiled politely at Pike’s words. He meant them well enough.

“Clarke.” Bree nodded politely, which Clarke returned, though her smile dropped when she added, “Well, we should really be going.”

“Oh?” She hadn’t realised Bellamy’s visit to the library was going to be so short. Had Pike really sent her into a tailspin for this?

“We’re giving Bellamy a tour of the town,” Bree explained. “All the updates we’ve made since he was last here.”

Clarke suddenly noticed how close Bree stood to Bellamy as she spoke, as if she was trying to curl her arm around him and pull him away. As quickly as it came, she tamped down on the thought. She didn’t know where that came from, and didn’t want to examine it further.

“I’m sure we can give Mr. Blake a more in-depth look at the library another day,” Pike offered.

“That would be great,” he said, seemingly genuine. “And I have your details to discuss the talk.”

Pike nodded. “Yes, feel free to get in touch anytime.”

Bree and Sterling started backing up, but Bellamy held up a halting hand. “Sorry, if you could just give me a minute.”

Turning back to Clarke, he said, “I’d love to catch up later—if you’re free sometime.”

“I’m free,” Clarke said, then flushed at making it so obvious she had no social life. She shouldn’t seem so eager. But, he had already offered. “That sounds nice.”

“Great. So, uh, is it okay if I have your number?”

Clarke had to fight to keep a straight face when Bree’s mouth dropped into a comically wide “O” behind Bellamy’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Clarke replied. When he passed his phone over with a smile, Clarke had to wipe her suddenly clammy hands down on the sides of her skirt before taking it and punching her number in. It felt like longer than thirteen years ago that she’d watched him save her number into his old phone. Remembering that back then he had jokingly saved her as ‘C’, a nod to how she’d signed off her notes to him, Clarke impulsively decided to program her name the same way this time.

As she handed the phone back though, Clarke had a sudden moment of doubt that he would even notice the reference. Thankfully, his lips tugged upwards into a smile of recognition.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Clarke said pleasantly.

Bellamy nodded as he took a step backwards, still facing her. “I hope so.”

Clarke ducked her head to hide her pleased smile, but it lingered long after they had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made a little moodboard for this fic on [here on my tumblr](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/187035262333/useyourtelescope-if-the-right-one-came-along-a) if you'd like to check it out.
> 
> Let me know what you thought :) This chapter is more of an introduction to the world of the fic; from next chapter onwards we'll have a lot more real person Bellamy content. Chapter 2 will be up next week!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments/kudos on the first chapter, I really appeciate it!

Clarke hummed to herself as she went over her shopping list. Satisfied that she had everything, she put her notebook back into her handbag and resumed her journey through the aisles of Arcadia’s only superstore. On her way to the tills, the bright lights of the makeup counters caught her attention.

She didn’t want a makeover, but since she ended up throwing out nearly all her old makeup yesterday, Clarke thought it would be nice to get a couple of things. Or even just one. She might not wear it often, but she’d like to wear something different for dinner tonight.

It hadn’t been until she got home from the library yesterday evening and her phone had pinged with a notification that Clarke realised she’d been eager to see how long Bellamy would take to get in touch. She’d grinned upon discovering it only took a couple of hours.

Their message exchange had been brief, though she’d tried not to read much into that. Even back when they had been close, they hadn’t texted much; albeit, that was mainly because his terrible phone plan meant he couldn’t afford unnecessary messages. Their communication outside the library back then had been largely via email, where he could be much wordier than the brief texts that had to stick to the confines of one message. It seemed that despite his upgrade to a smart phone and, she presumed, a much better phone plan, his texting style had not improved.

Anyway, the result of the messages was the important thing: they were meeting for dinner in Polis tonight.

Clarke didn’t want to dither about her purchases; she had a schedule to stick to in order to make the one bus—she would need the option of a drink or three at dinner, which precluded taking her car, and she didn’t want to spring for two taxis—that would get her there on time. But she did have enough time for a short browse.

As soon as she was in front of the numerous shelves of makeup, Clarke was overwhelmed with choice. She first headed to the brand she’d last owned, but the new packaging seemed to be marketed at someone at least fifteen years younger than her. So, she walked farther down the aisle until something caught her eye. The highly pigmented shades of lipstick were appealing, but there were so many to choose from. She picked up the nearest two that she liked and examined the testers.

“Clarke?”

Clarke looked over and saw Madi and Charlotte in front of the shelf she had dismissed moments ago. Guess she hadn’t been wrong about the marketing.

“Hi. How are you?”

Madi made a face as they walked over to her. “Bored.”

“Mom made us come with Dad to do the shopping, but we got bored so he told us to go for a walk while he finished,” Charlotte explained. “What are you getting?” she asked, looking into Clarke’s basket with a curious glance.

There wasn’t anything incriminating in there, but Madi’s eyes focused on the two lipsticks in Clarke’s hand.

“Are you buying makeup?” Madi wondered. “You never wear makeup.”

Clarke huffed a little at the tone. “Actually, I’m wearing makeup right now,” she said. It was only mascara, but it was true on a technicality.

Charlotte squinted at her. “Did you put any base on? Because if you did, it’s faded, so you should get a better one.”

Madi ignored this comment. “I have never seen you wear lipstick. Like, _ever_.”

Charlotte gasped, clearly having come to some shocking conclusion. “Clarke, do you have a date?” she asked, eyes wide.

“No,” Clarke said quickly.

Too quickly.

“Really?” Madi said, disbelieving.

“I am going out for dinner tonight,” she conceded, ”but it's not a date. I just noticed my old lipstick had gone bad, so I thought maybe I'd get something new. What do you think?” She held the two shades out to them. Hopefully the distraction would work. She wouldn’t have enjoyed this line of questioning even from a friend like Harper; to get it from two teenagers was mortifying.

“Well, you can't decide like that, we need to swatch them,” Madi said, taking them out of her hand. Removing the lids, she took hold of Clarke’s free arm and started swiping them across her skin.

“I knew that,” Clarke said, but let her continue. “My hand isn't good enough?”

“You can't try that many there,” Charlotte told her, which was when Clarke realised that while she hadn’t been looking, the other girl had grabbed at least six more colours to try.

“I appreciate the help,” Clarke began, amused as the girls continued their task with intense focus, “but I don’t mind if you want to get back to what you were looking at.”

“It’s okay. We’re not allowed to buy anything today anyway,” Madi said.

“I’m deciding what I want for my birthday, but that’s next month,” Charlotte added. “Your dinner is tonight!”

“Who’s your dinner with?”

“A friend,” Clarke evaded. “You haven’t met him.”

“_Him_,” Charlotte sang with a smirk. It was the epitome of middle school level teasing.

Before Clarke could comment, Madi stopped what she was doing to correct Charlotte seriously, “Clarke’s bi, so it doesn’t matter if it’s a guy or a girl.”

“Oh, yeah,” Charlotte replied, sobering. “I knew that, I didn’t mean— It’s just, you haven’t had a boyfriend _or_ a girlfriend since I’ve known you, so—”

“It’s okay, Charlotte. Don’t worry,” Clarke said gently as the girl looked so apologetic, though the reminder of her singledom did sting a little. She’d met Madi first since they had both been regular visitors to the local hospital with their ailing parents. It was only after Madi’s mom passed away and Charlotte’s parents took her in that Clarke met Madi’s best friend. That was quite a few years ago, and though Clarke had been in a relationship since that time, it hadn’t been serious enough to call her a girlfriend.

Clarke turned her attention back to the swatches Madi had drawn, noting, “I don't think I want a purple lipstick, Madi.”

“It’s really on trend.”

The colour looked nicer on her skin than it did on the tube. Still, she shook her head. “It’s not for me.”

“Fine.” Madi pouted, finally stepping away. “But which one do you like best?”

Clarke analysed them. She was a little overwhelmed by the amount the girls had tried, all down her forearm. Some of the colours were starting to look too similar to be distinctive, but none looked terrible at least. “Maybe the third one down?” she suggested.

“That's really similar to your normal lip colour.”

“So, it'll look natural. That's a thing,” Clarke protested at their unimpressed expressions.

Madi rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but if you're only going to get _one_ lipstick, then get something different.”

Clarke pursed her lips, though she couldn’t disagree with Madi’s logic. “What about that red one—the fifth one down?” It had been the first one that called to her, but she was a little apprehensive about it.

“I like that one!” Charlotte exclaimed. Madi even nodded approvingly.

“You guys don't think it’s too much?”

Madi held Clarke’s arm up to her face and studied the combo.

“Let’s try it on you,” Charlotte said.

“How do you guys know so much about this stuff?” Clarke asked as Charlotte sorted through the assortment of tubes to find the correct one while Madi reached for the sanitising products stored at the base of the stands.

Charlotte and Madi shared a glance before looking back at Clarke. “Youtube.”

She went home with a new red lipstick and didn’t have buyer’s remorse until she stared at her full outfit in the mirror.

In a red lace dress that she’d let Harper convince her to buy over a year ago but had yet to wear, she felt distinctly overdressed for a casual “catching up with a friend” dinner, but Clarke didn’t know when else she would have an excuse to wear it. So, rationalising that she would have worn the dress if it had just been dinner with Harper and Monty, Clarke had done her usual routine on her face and put the dress on before topping it off with mascara and the new lipstick.

Although not exactly the same shade of red, the lipstick and dress still looked really good together. The problem was that the combination really made it look like she was going on a date.

At the very least, she was “dressed to impress,” which hadn’t been her goal.

Of course, it would be nice to impress Bellamy. When they’d last seen each other for more than five minutes, she’d been the one leaving Arcadia for big things while he was still at community college and didn’t think he’d ever leave the state. Now, he was the huge success with international fans thanks to Netflix and she’d spent the last decade stuck in her hometown.

No, stuck too harsh. She was happy here, but that hadn’t always been the case.

The prospect of spending the rest of her life in a small town had seemed unfathomable when she’d been packing to go to college at NYU. When she had dropped out two years later to come home to be with her sick father Clarke had been full of mixed emotions. She had wanted to spend the last few years of Jake’s life by his side, and the fact that those years had stretched closer to five than the initially estimated two was something Clarke treasured deeply. She wouldn’t change her decision for anything. But her mother—who had separated from Jake and moved away during Clarke’s first semester at college—had thought it was a step back for Clarke, and her words had rung in Clarke’s ears for years.

However, over time it had gotten easier to tune out those external judgements of what her life should be and realise she was content with the life she had. It had taken a while after losing Jake, but she’d grown to appreciate the quirks of living in a small town where everyone knew each other. She’d eventually completed her studies (albeit not at NYU), she had a good job and amazing people in her life that she cared for very much. Her regular social circle only consisted of Harper and Monty—and now Jordan, of course—since the rest of her close friends were long-distance, but she mostly didn’t mind. The day to day of living in Arcadia was pleasant and comfortable and there was nothing wrong with that.

But it would seem like a small, inconsequential life to someone who had travelled the world for work and met all kinds of interesting people. And, as her mother liked to remind Clarke during their monthly phone calls, there were plenty of other things she could have gone and done rather than just settling for the first job she’d ever had.

Reminding herself that it was supposed to be looking forward to seeing Bellamy, rather than thinking of all the ways he might judge her, Clarke cocked her head as she surveyed her appearance. A quick glance at the clock told her that she didn’t have time to debate a new outfit if she wanted to make her bus. So, she settled for blotting her lipstick to tone down the bold colour before grabbing her bag and blazer and heading downstairs.

She made it to the bus stop with two minutes to spare, and when the driver opened the doors, she was surprised to see a familiar face.

The only problem was she couldn’t place why he was familiar.

“Good evening,” the bus driver said warmly as she got on. “How are you, miss?”

“Good. How are you?” Clarke said before requesting her ticket. Hopefully that was polite enough for whatever her acquaintance was with the man.

“Not seen you on this one before.” he responded, after taking her carefully counted change.

As this was the regional service that connected Arcadia with the neighbouring smaller towns like Polis, he wasn’t wrong. Clarke had gotten it a couple times during the day to see Harper and Monty in Mecha, but she usually just drove. “No, I don’t use it often,” she said, tearing her ticket off the printer.

“Well, we enjoyed Storytime on Saturday,” he said, clicking the memory in place. The man was a frequent visitor to the library’s weekend Storytime sessions with his young daughter. Clarke was normally only peripherally involved with the event, as Frankie ran the sessions, but she was currently filling in for a few weeks while Frankie was on holiday.

“Thanks,” she replied, before moving to take a seat on the bus.

The comment led Clarke to consider her plans for the next Storytime session as well as other ideas she had for projects at the library. Although she had been making an effort to not think about work in the evenings, Clarke allowed herself to sort through her plans for the twenty-minute bus ride as a distraction from thinking about Bellamy.

When her stop came, the driver wished her a pleasant evening as she got off. Her response, “You too. See you and Reese on Saturday,” was met with a pleased smile, confirming that she had remembered his daughter’s name correctly.

The restaurant Bellamy had suggested was only a few minutes’ walk from the bus stop on the edge of the town square. Just long enough for her to start getting jitters. The square was usually busy, but it was even more so tonight with setup nearly complete for the food festival opening shortly. She tried to pay attention to the stalls that had their banners up but she was too distracted. A catch-up with an old friend shouldn’t make her so nervous, but it was hard to really believe that when she was dressed like she was going on a date.

Well, her old date outfits had all shown off a lot more cleavage than this—the red lace and lining curved nicely around her figure, but the high neckline meant it still looked modest. Then again, it had been a while since she had taken any of them out of her wardrobe. This was definitely the most dressed up she had been in a long time, even if she wasn’t wearing heels.

Upon reaching the restaurant, Clarke took a deep breath before opening the door. It was still a few minutes before their agreed time and Clarke was unsure if she was pleased or nervous when the maître’d at the front desk told her Mr. Blake was already at the table.

Bellamy was looking at his phone when Clarke was shown into the secluded alcove. It must have been chosen for privacy — Clarke was sure Bellamy had to be selective about where he dined out now if he didn’t want to be interrupted — but the nook, tucked away from the bustle of the main dining area, had a distinctly date-like feel to it.

She cleared her throat as she tamped down on that train of thought. “Hi, Bellamy,” she said, prompting him to look up and drop his phone on the table.

“Hey,” he grinned. He stood to greet her, putting into contrast their appearance. She’d thrown her new navy blazer on over her red dress, a smart and dressy combination that contrasted with Bellamy’s more casual blue jeans, plain white t-shirt, and khaki over-shirt.

“Wow, now I feel really underdressed.”

Clarke flushed at Bellamy’s comment, pleased the host had already left them alone. “I just never have an excuse to dress up, so I might have overdone it—“

“No, you look great,” Bellamy said. The way his eyes lingered to take in her appearance suggested it was a genuine compliment rather than simple nicety. “I meant to change after my Skype meeting, but it overran and I didn’t want to be late,” he explained. “Hopefully, you don’t mind being seen with me.”

“I think I’ll manage.”

At Clarke’s smirk Bellamy laughed, and for a second, they felt like themselves again.

But another second later, they were just two people staring awkwardly at each other.

“I, uh, guess we should sit,” Bellamy said, gesturing to the table with his hand.

Her eyes caught on his large palm, fingers splayed wide, and it sent a traitorous shiver down her spine. She’d known from personal experience that Bellamy used his hands when explaining things, but Clarke felt like she hadn’t properly appreciated that fact—or those hands—enough until _SPQR_ had captured him doing so in HD. The sight was oddly mesmerising, though the camera didn’t always do justice to them, sometimes editing them out of frame.

God, she was not about to start obsessing over his _hands_.

“Probably,” Clarke agreed, taking a seat quickly. She then realised she should have taken off her blazer first, but since she didn’t want to stand up again, she awkwardly shuffled out of it to drape on the back of her chair as Bellamy settled across from her.

“So,” he said, strumming his long fingers on the table. Clarke pointedly looked away.

“So. The restaurant looks nice,” Clarke observed, glancing around. “I haven’t been before, but I’ve heard good things.”

Bellamy nodded. “I went to college with the owner‘s husband. I hadn’t been before the weekend, but I really liked it.” After a pause, Bellamy offered the water jug up to her. “Would you like some water?”

“Yes, please.”

They both smiled but remained painfully silent while he poured the water into her glass.

After taking a sip, Clarke finally decided to come out and say, “So, this is weird, huh?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Kind of. But, still. It really is good to see you again. I was hoping I would.”

“You were?” Clarke wondered, unable to prevent the hopeful note from seeping into her voice. A part of her had always figured Bellamy would have forgotten all about her by now.

“Yeah, of course,” he said easily. “I mean, I knew you were around back when my mom was still here, but after she left, I didn’t know whether you were still in Arcadia or not.”

With the exception of her father’s funeral, Clarke couldn’t recall speaking to Aurora Blake except for in passing, so she was surprised to learn the woman had been paying enough attention to keep Bellamy up to date on her whereabouts. All she said was, “How is your mom doing?”

Stories about his mom’s life in Spain led to his sister’s travels, distracting them from their menus and having to ask their waiter to come back since they didn’t know what they wanted to order.

Clarke wanted to hear more about his _own_ travels, especially since she knew some of the places he had visited while filming the second season and then doing promos for the show, but when their starters arrived he said, “But anyway, tell me about you.”

“I’ve been good,” Clarke said automatically. It was a broad brush over twelve years of history, but she had been lucky enough to land somewhere that was, though not perfect, still pretty good.

“Pike’s right-hand woman, apparently,” he said with a smirk, laughing when Clarke wrinkled her nose. “How do you find him as a boss?” Bellamy asked. “I mean, I only worked with him for a week and he seemed like a lot.”

“We had to learn how to work best with each other,” Clarke admitted. “But it was never really bad. Even when we disagreed Pike still respected me. I guess because no one else was really willing to argue with him.”

Bellamy’s responding handsome smile somehow looked even better than she remembered in the soft candlelight. “The Clarke Griffin I knew definitely didn’t back down from an argument.”

“Ha ha,” she said sarcastically. But his smile and tone were nothing but warm, and it pleased her.

Bellamy followed up with more questions about the library and their conversation soon turned into a detailed discussion of the many changes it had undergone since his time there. It was the kind of minutiae and logistics Clarke enjoyed thinking about but could rarely discuss in detail, and she hardly registered flying through their starter and then main course. The food was good, but it didn’t have her full attention. 

She still fully intended to suggest dessert, of course. But after their table had been cleared of empty plates, the waiter returned not with dessert menus but with an apologetic aside to Bellamy. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but could I have a word with you please, Mr. Blake?”

Bellamy’s brow ruffled, but after a confirmatory look to Clarke, he nodded and stood up, following the man to the side. Clarke took a sip of her wine while she waited. They’d been so preoccupied chatting that she was only just finishing her first glass.

Bellamy came back before she could decide whether that was a good sign that she’d been enjoying their discussion, or bad because she’d been monopolising the conversation.

“I hope everything’s okay,” she said. He shot her a smile, but his face held a look of weary resignation.

“Yeah, it’s just— Apparently, there’s paparazzi outside trying to take a photo of me,” he finished with a sigh.

“What?” Clarke’s eyes widened.

Bellamy shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately, it sometimes comes with the territory. I was hoping to escape that while I’m here, but… ”

Clarke had seen plenty of photos of Bellamy with his ex on mag covers to know it was true, but she was surprised to find that kind of attention had followed him all the way to Polis. “That’s just it,” she said. “I didn’t think paparazzi would bother to come all this way!”

“Actually, they said it was a local guy. They knew him.”

Clarke frowned before realisation set in. There had been a few familiar faces in the crowd as she’d walked through the town square. “Diggs!”

“Yeah, that’s what they said,” Bellamy confirmed, looking puzzled. “You know him too?”

“Not really,” Clarke said with a downturn of her lips. “And he’s more like a wannabe paparazzi than anything. He doesn’t really have a regular job, he’s always just trying to make a quick buck. The few times someone even half famous has been in the area he’s left his mom’s basement long enough to make some money off photos of them. I guess he thinks you might be his big break.”

“Lucky me,” Bellamy laughed wryly.

“What do you want to do about it?”

“They said they’ll sneak us out the back.” Clarke nodded, feeling deflated at cutting the night short when she was enjoying herself. She perked up, however, when Bellamy continued, “I was thinking we could get dessert to go if you’re up for it?”

“Yes, that sounds great.” Hopefully she didn’t sound too eager, but his responding wide smile suggested he wasn’t in a rush to end their night either. That smile wasn’t doing anything to help the fluttering in her stomach that piped up every now and then at being in the company of her old crush.

“Cool. Any ideas on somewhere we could go that’s under the radar?”

Clarke smiled. “Actually yes.”

Bellamy chuckled as Clarke flipped on a switch to light their way.

“I can’t believe we’re sneaking into the library. Who knew you were such a rule breaker now, Clarke?”

She sucked in a breath as his arm brushed against hers when he followed her inside. He didn’t seem affected though, immediately taking the place in, so she shook away the sensation.

“I’m not sure if it really counts when I have a key,” she pointed out, locking the back door behind them.

She’d wondered if Bellamy would think her suggestion of going to the library after dark a little silly, but he’d eagerly agreed. They’d taken a taxi straight from the restaurant, the box with their desserts balanced carefully on Clarke’s lap while Bellamy held the bottle of wine. Their taxi driver had been extremely chatty, talking at them about his day more than anything. They had shared a few amused glances with each other, a welcome reminder of doing the same when their old boss had gone off on one of his mind-numbingly long speeches, but the extended break from their earlier line of conversation had given Clarke pause as to where to resume. Bellamy didn’t seem to notice if she was a little quieter, though. He was busy studying everything carefully as he followed her down the hall and into the small staff kitchen. After she turned the light on in the room, she started taking off her blazer, stopping in her tracks at Bellamy’s exclamation.

“Hang on, let me guess!” She looked over her shoulder as he eyed all the cupboards suspiciously before marching confidently to one and pulling it open, letting out a triumphant, “Aha!”

“Were you always this excited about mugs?”

“They’re still in the same cupboard,” he noted.

“It’s the one that makes the most sense,” she said, draping her blazer on the table before starting towards the cutlery drawer.

“Which is your mug?”

“Who says I have a specific mug?” Clarke replied, prim. 

He turned back to look at her, unimpressed. “I’m pretty sure one of our first arguments was about me using your mug.” Clarke tried not to flush as the memory came back to her, complete with the passive-aggressive note she had left him. She had been adamant that he’d done it on purpose but with hindsight, she knew it was an innocent mistake. She had been the one in the wrong to yell at him the way she had after he’d confronted her over that note. She hoped it was nicer memories that stood out for him, and not just ones where she’d been rude and overdramatic.

“That mug broke years ago,” she said, finally picking out forks.

“I can see that it’s not here. But you have _a_ mug.”

She bristled against his confidence, but eventually admitted, “It’s the blue one with the stars.”

He grinned before extracting it from the cupboard and setting it down on the side. “It’s cute.”

She flushed. Before she could inform him that it was one she had painted herself, he held out another mug from the cupboard, this time a printed one commemorating the wedding of Meghan and Harry. “Who’s the big royals fan?”

“Pike.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows went up. “Seriously?”

“He organised the town party for the royal wedding. Both of them.” Clarke said.

Bellamy chuckled. “Did not expect that.”

“So, you don’t want to drink your wine out of a royals mug?” Clarke joked when he returned it to the cupboard.

“I think I’ll go with this one,” he said, emerging with Frankie’s rainbow mug.

Once they had the necessary items, Clarke led them back to the main reading area. She tried not to turn too many lights on, partly to save energy but also because she quite liked the cosy ambience of the dim lighting.

When she got to her destination, Clarke set what she was carrying down on the table nearest the wall.

“So, this is your new favourite table?” Bellamy guessed, putting his items down next to hers.

His arm brushed against hers once more, the feeling was more intense now that she wasn’t wearing her blazer. The long sleeves were the one part of her dress that wasn’t lined, so she could feel his warmth radiating through the thin layer of lace fabric. Doing her best to ignore the tingling sensation, she walked away in order to answer his question.

“It’s not really for the table,” Clarke replied, but left her explanation to be completed by opening the blinds that covered the floor to ceiling glass doors in between two bookshelves.

“Whoa.” Bellamy stared approvingly as she revealed the view of the back garden.

Back when Bellamy had been around, the library garden had been practically barren. It was all they could do to keep it semi-tidy, not having enough resources to make it into an area people wanted to spend time in.

Since then, however, she’d convinced Pike to invest some time and funds in doing it up. It was too small to use for most events, but they’d turned it into a pleasant space. If the evening hadn’t turned so chilly, she might have suggested they eat their dessert out there. Still, staying inside the library and leaving the garden as their view seemed safer somehow.

_Because the garden is more romantic_, a voice in her brain piped up.

“It looks great. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it when I was here yesterday,” Bellamy said.

“I’m not. I’m sure Pike kept you busy with the things he thought most noteworthy.”

“He is pretty proud of how he’s changed the shelving layout,” Bellamy confirmed with a wry smile.

“Is down here okay?” Clarke asked, gesturing to the floor.

“Yeah, of course,” Bellamy said, starting to move their things from the table to the floor. “As long as it’s okay for your dress?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Clarke said with a wave of her hand, slipping out of her metallic ballet flats and grabbing their desserts.

Before she could sit down, Bellamy took off his overshirt and laid it on the floor. “Here, you can sit on this,” he said, sitting next to the shirt with his legs crossed.

Clarke hadn’t been worried about the floor. She’d left her blazer in the kitchen, but knowing the cleaners had hoovered that evening she wouldn’t have put it down first if she’d had it. Still, it was a nice gesture on Bellamy’s part.

_Maybe even a little romantic_, she thought with a flush.

“Thanks,” was all she said. She tried to eye him up as she sat down, resting first on her knees, then kicking her legs out to the side so her butt was on the floor.

He wasn’t looking at her, though, busy opening the wine. It gave her a nice view of his white t-shirt stretching over his biceps. Not wanting to be caught staring, Clarke began unboxing their respective desserts.

“I think you were telling me about the kids’ summer reading program before we got interrupted at the restaurant,” Bellamy recalled as he poured their wine.

“No.”

He looked up at her then, confused. “No?”

“No, I mean—that is what I was talking about, but we’ve talked enough about me,” Clarke said determinedly. She had greatly enjoyed their conversation, and Bellamy had certainly been engaged, asking steady, curious questions, but their break in transit made Clarke realise just how little Bellamy had told her about himself. “What about you? I mean, you’re a published author _and_ television star.”

Bellamy chuckled, even as he passed Clarke her now full mug. She tried not to shiver as their fingers grazed. “I think _star_ is a little much,” he said.

“Well, we just fled a restaurant because you’re so famous people are desperate to get pictures of you...” She trailed off, pointedly taking a sip.

“I thought you said it was just some guy, not a real pap—“

“Oh, I’m sorry our single paparazzi isn’t good enough for you, now you’ve hit the big time.”

Bellamy almost choked on his wine, shaking his head. “Big time? No, I’m not like—” He wilted under Clarke’s delighted stare. “You’re teasing me.”

She smirked as she passed over his dessert, not letting the expression falter even as she felt a jolt through her fingertips when his fingers grazed hers. This was definitely bringing back memories of the last few months they had worked at the library together when Clarke had learnt to maintain their banter while pretending she didn’t notice every time they touched, no matter how accidental.

“I am,” she said assertively. It had been twelve years since then; she wasn’t about to turn back into a shy teenager with a crush just because she’d spent a few hours in Bellamy Blake’s company. “But you shouldn’t sell yourself short. And I want to hear about you too.”

“Fair enough,” he acknowledged. His cheeks seemed a bit flushed as he adjusted his glasses. “What do you want to know about: the book or the show?”

It was both, but it was also more than that. “I don’t just mean those things; I want to know about personal things too. Like— How are you doing?” That didn’t sound right, but Clarke couldn’t figure out a better way to say it, so she took a bite of her cheesecake while she thought about it.

“Ah,” he said knowingly, a sly smirk on his face. “So, you want to know about my love life. Everyone does.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. So much for selling himself short. “I _wasn’t_ going to start there, actually, but since you brought it up— What happened with you and Gina?”

Bellamy blinked back at her, frozen halfway through cutting into his brownie.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay, I-I was just surprised. All anyone else wanted to know was why things ended with Echo,” he admitted.

“Ah.” Clarke shrugged. “Well, to be honest, I wasn’t that surprised about that one ending.”

Bellamy chuckled then.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way—“

“Is there a nice way to say that?” he asked, though he did still look amused.

“Just that,” Clarke tried, “it always seemed kind of a weird match to me. Not to sound judgmental—“

“You, judgmental?” he said, with narrowed brows.

The comment brought out Clarke’s childish side. She stuck her tongue out at him before explaining, “Obviously, I don’t know her personally, but her Hollywood lifestyle—it just didn’t seem like you. I mean, it’s great that you’ve been so successful, but you were never the kind of person who wanted to spend time in the spotlight.” Clarke didn’t think much about her words, honestly spoken as they were. But she second guessed herself at Bellamy’s silence, especially when she realised he was looking at her carefully, his face sombre. “I didn’t mean to offend,” she added, then quickly filled her mouth with another piece of cake before she could put her foot in it again.

“No.” He shook his head. “You’re right. We had fun, but in the end… I had already found some of the attention difficult, but I wasn't prepared for how much more intense it would get when we got together. She’s a lot more comfortable with the fame part of our jobs than I am.” Bellamy played around with his food while Clarke chewed what she quickly realised was an overly large piece of cake. After only a few more moments of silence, he chuckled softly. “You know, I was kind of nervous about tonight.”

“What,” Clarke said in shock, before clapping a hand to her mouth because some food went flying—thankfully well away from Bellamy, who only chuckled again. When Clarke finally swallowed, she tried once more, “What were you nervous about?”

“Just that—“ He sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Our friendship meant so much to me back then. I was worried about us meeting up, and it being—I don’t know, different, I guess.”

Clarke warmed at his words, unsure of how to respond. She wanted to tell him how much it meant to her too, but found her throat drying up over the words. She knew if she started down that road so much more could come tumbling out, and she couldn’t risk it. She ended up settling for a joke, “Like maybe I’d have turned into the snobby bitch you thought I was when we first met?”

Bellamy laughed, shaking his head. “No, not that. But maybe that we wouldn’t be able to talk as easily anymore. That’s what I remember the most; that I could always talk to you. About anything.”

Clarke was glad his gaze had returned to his brownie, so he couldn’t see the warring emotions on her face. The intense certainty of his voice made Clarke shiver, but in the moment a different feeling won out. “I thought you might have forgotten about me by now,” she admitted in a quiet voice.

His head jerked up, and when his eyes locked on hers, Clarke was taken aback by how shocked he looked. “No, of course not,” he assured her. “I never forgot about you.”

Clarke smiled softly and had to look away from his earnestness. “I thought about getting back in touch a few times, but… “

Bellamy let out a deep breath, running his free hand through his hair again. “Yeah, me too.”

They stared out at the garden in silence for a long moment. Clarke allowed herself to wonder, not for the first time, what it would have been like if either of them had taken the leap. If they hadn’t missed so much time. They wouldn’t have so much to catch up on, that’s for sure.

“Well, I guess that doesn’t matter now,” she said brightly. “So, back to Gina.” As much as she had appreciated Bellamy’s words about her, she really did want to discuss all the things she had missed.

He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“She’s still living in the area, in Mecha. I just thought I’d warn you.”

Clarke didn’t expect Bellamy’s warm smile in response. “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I already knew. Gina told me herself.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, we— I don’t know if I would say we’re _close _friends,” Bellamy said. “We don’t talk all that often, but we keep in touch. We’re hopefully going to meet up while I’m here.”

Clarke had a brief flare of jealousy that Bellamy had gone to the effort of keeping in touch with Gina but not her. But then, he and Gina had been _married_.

Besides, it didn’t sound like he had concrete plans with Gina while he was already here with Clarke.

“That’s nice that you stayed friends. I haven’t kept in touch with any of my exes,” Clarke noted. “Not the serious ones anyway.”

“Messy breakups?” Bellamy asked to which she nodded.

“Something like that.”

“That sucks.”

Clarke shrugged. Though she’d brought the subject up, it wasn’t as if she wanted to talk about her heartbreak.

“You know, I don’t think you were ever dating someone when I knew you,” Bellamy reflected.

_That can’t be right, _Clarke thought initially. _But actually…_

“I’d just broken up with my first girlfriend when I started at the library,” Clarke recalled.

“That was why you got in trouble with your mom, wasn’t it? For breaking curfew to see her?”

“Partly,” she confirmed.

“And I guess you hadn’t met anyone at college before we lost touch.”

“No, I—“ Thinking back, she and Bellamy had still been emailing each other, albeit intermittently, when she had met her first boyfriend Finn, but she hadn’t started dating him until after those emails had finally died out. “I guess I hadn’t,” she finished, not wanting to go into detail. She didn’t want to waste what precious little time she had with Bellamy talking about her cheating ex. “Hey, we’re meant to be talking about you,” Clarke pointed out.

“I know, I know. But there’re still some things I want to know,” he said, but then followed it up by taking another swig of his wine, which made Clarke think he was stalling. When he spoke again, he avoided her gaze, “You’re not seeing anyone now, are you?”

“No,” Clarke replied immediately. She almost followed it up with an amused “Of course not,” but stopped herself when she realised what that would imply: that she wouldn’t be here if she was. Because she would have met up with Bellamy if she had been dating someone. It just wouldn’t have felt the same.

Suddenly, Clarke could see how their evening would look if she did have a partner. Dinner in a private alcove of a candlelit restaurant; dessert in the empty library with the moonlight streaming in through the trees of the garden.

And he still wasn’t looking at her, so determinedly casual as he picked up the last bit of brownie with his fork.

“I’m not,” she said. “Are you?”

He swallowed the piece of brownie in his mouth so fast she fleetingly worried he would choke on it. His shake of the head was followed with a simple “No,” but his voice sounded lower, rougher. That one word vibrated through her whole body.

Clarke licked her lips to check that no crumbs clung to her lipstick and spotted his eyes tracking the movement. Maybe it was the moonlight streaming in, but she was sure that his eyes looked sharper than they had before. Darker somehow.

That gave her the courage to blurt out, “Do you remember the book sale we held here, not long before I left?”

His brows furrowed at her change in topic, but he swallowed and replied easily enough, “Yeah. That was the last event we worked together, right?”

One of the last times they had seen each other in person, Clarke mentally added as she nodded. It hadn’t been the end of their friendship—which at least had continued via email for some time—but it had been the end of something.

“That day, there was something I was going to tell to you.” Clarke took a gulp of her wine.

Bellamy frowned, clearly trying to recall the details.

“I actually— I sort of had a crush on you,” she admitted in a rush.

Bellamy’s eyes grew comically wide. Clarke gave him a moment to process, cradling her mug between her hands.

“I-I had no idea,” he said finally.

“I know. I didn’t want you to know at first, not until— I was going to tell you that day, but…”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He sounded curious more than anything.

Still, Clarke tried not to shrink under his gaze. “I guess I chickened out.”

He leaned back, his sudden shyness in the wake of her secret seeming to disappear. “You?” he asked, shocked.

“What?”

“I just,” he shrugged. “I always thought you were the most confident person I knew.”

Clarke laughed, a flush staining her cheeks for some reason. “Me?”

“Yeah!” he exclaimed, as if it was obvious. “You were always so sure of yourself.”

Clarke frowned. “You don’t have to remind me that I was a know-it-all.”

Bellamy shook his head. “I’m not just talking about when we were at the library. Even when you and Octavia were little and you played with the other kids, you were always taking charge. Hey,” he added, noticing her embarrassment, “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”

“I know,” Clarke said softly.

They were quiet for a moment before he wondered aloud, “Was I so scary?”

“No, it wasn’t that.” Clarke sighed. She hadn’t intended to tell this particular part of the story, but if she was already coming clean, she might as well tell the full truth. Trying to inject the confidence he seemed to believe she had, Clarke said, “Before then, I— I’d had one girlfriend and kissed a couple of people, but I hadn’t… _done_ anything else. Just kissing. So, I had this idea that I was going to ask you to, um, be my summer fling I guess?” she confessed. “I didn’t expect a relationship or anything, not when I was going off to college, but I knew you were a lot more experienced than me. I thought we could do something casual. It felt like a good idea that morning, but then Gina came to meet you for lunch and it all seemed kind of silly.”

Bellamy was clearly stunned. “Gina and I weren’t even together then,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck, “but I guess we were heading there.”

Clarke nodded. She’d learnt that shortly after. “If I had told you the truth that day, would you have taken me up on it?” she asked. It was something she’d always wondered. _What if?_

But he confirmed the answer she’d known in her heart just by looking away. “Honestly, I— You were seventeen then, right?”

Clarke pouted, exaggerating the gesture into comical territory to cover up the sting of disappointment. “I turned eighteen that summer.”

“Still,” Bellamy laughed, shaking his head. “Look, I remember how cute you were back then—“ Her responding snort must not have been as quiet as she intended since he stopped and looked at her, gaze soft. “Before you started at the library, I hadn’t seen you in years, and literally my first thought when you walked in was: ‘Shit, Griffin is hot.’ And then I immediately felt like a dick because you were _way_ too young for me.”

“You weren’t some old man,” she protested. But to show him she genuinely wasn’t hurt, she joked, “Not like you are now.”

“Hey,” he grinned, nudging her foot with his. “You were the same age as my little sister. I would have been a hypocrite if I thought of you that way.”

“Because,” she said, realisation dawning, “you told Octavia she wasn’t allowed to date Lincoln.”

Bellamy paused, frowning. “I didn’t think I’d told you all of that.”

He’d complained about Octavia wanting to date an older guy numerous times, but Clarke now remembered it hadn’t been Bellamy who’d mentioned he’d tried to expressly forbid her. Heck, thinking back, she didn’t think he had ever mentioned Lincoln by name. “Lincoln did. I got to know him when I moved back here after my dad got sick. He owns this ceramics café on Bower Street. Basically, he sells plain ceramics for you to paint and he fires it for you. Like this,” she rambled, holding up her mug. “Means I’ve got way too many bowls at home just for one person, but,” Clarke shrugged, “I like it.”

“You painted that?” he asked, eyes flicking down to study the cup.

“Yeah.” She tried to take another sip to distract her from the subsequent silence, only to realise her mug was empty.

“Listen,” he began, his tone more careful than it had been all night, “I’m sorry I didn’t realise –“

“No,” Clarke interrupted, shaking her head. As strange as it felt to be coming clean to Bellamy after all this time, she was glad she had been brave enough to do it. But she didn’t want him to feel bad about not returning her feelings. “Don’t be.” She let out a huff of breath before admitting, “Look, I get it. I guess deep down, I knew you wouldn’t feel that way about me.”

“It wasn’t like I never— Five years felt like a big age difference then. I was still figuring out college after starting late, being the older guy in every class, and you were in _high school_.” He paused before observing, “I think it would have been different if we’d both been older.”

Clarke nodded slowly. “I suppose you don’t seem all that much older and wiser than me now.” She finished with a smirk that he returned.

“And I guess you don’t need anyone to help you out… experience-wise anymore.”

Clarke paused, unsure of how to interpret Bellamy’s comment. Was he suggesting what she thought he was? He was carefully avoiding her gaze again, trying to play it off like it was just a casual remark, but something told her there was more to it.

“Not so much experience-wise,” she said, gears turning, “but it has been a while.”

“Yeah?” He met her eyes now, and that was definitely interest she saw.

“Don’t have many options around here. On any dating app, I have to set my distance range really high to get more than, like, ten matches—and I’m bi!”

That got a laugh from Bellamy. “There’s nowhere you like to go to meet people? I saw so many more bars in Polis than there used to be.”

“I used to go out sometimes with my friends Harper and Monty, but they’re a couple and were not great wingmen,” Clarke explained. “And we haven’t exactly been going clubbing since they had Jordan – their baby. Going out to meet anyone new just feels like a hassle.”

“That’s a shame.”

Clarke shrugged. “I’ve got used to it.”

“Still, it must be annoying sometimes.”

“Yeah, it can be,” she admitted.

Bellamy bit his lip, set his mug down, and sat upright as if he had decided something. “Do you think you’d be interested in… something like you had in mind before?”

“You mean… a summer fling?”

Bellamy smirked. “I wasn’t exactly suggesting you wait until summer.”

“With you?”

“No, with that Diggs guy who was trying to get a picture of me. Yes, with me, Clarke.” He grinned winningly, and the fluttering in her stomach suddenly went into overdrive. “I mean, I’m only around for like a month, if that, but if you’re up for it…”

He trailed off as Clarke continued to stare at him, open-mouthed. All the air seemed to have disappeared from her lungs.

“If I misread this, just say the word,“ he said, looking nervous.

“No, you— I— Um.” Full of nerves herself, Clarke bit her bottom lip. They faded when she noticed how his eyes honed in on her mouth. “You didn’t misread. That, uh, sounds like fun.”

“Yeah?” He looked pleased, hopeful, even.

Clarke nodded eagerly.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Right now?” Realising how that might sound, Clarke put her mug down and corrected, “Sure.”

Bellamy wasn’t convinced. “If you don’t want to, that’s—“

“No, I— I want to. You just surprised me.” Trying to play off her sudden shyness, Clarke added, “I mean, one minute you’re telling me I remind you of your little sister, and then—”

Bellamy chuckled, leaning towards her. They seemed to be sitting a lot nearer each other than they had started out. How had she not noticed that happening? “Trust me, there haven’t been any comparisons between the two of you tonight. I mean, that dress—“

“You really like it?” Clarke ran her hands over the skirt, enjoying the feel of the lace against her palms. She was pleased she’d worn it after all.

“You look amazing,” he said in a rough tone she felt all the way to her toes.

The dress was fully lined, except the sleeves, which meant very little stood between the heat of Bellamy’s hand and her forearm. Her breath caught in her throat, eyelashes fluttering, when Bellamy’s fingers ran up her arm and neck to touch her cheek. Her eyes lifted in time to see his look of concentration as he brushed a lock of her behind her ear. Clarke leaned forward instinctively, and Bellamy closed the distance to brush a soft kiss on her lips.

Three nights ago, she’d been at home swiping through a dating app out of habit rather than expectation, resigned to the fact that there wasn’t anyone of romantic interest in the vicinity. And now, Bellamy freaking Blake was kissing her! Clarke reveled in the sensation for a few long moments, unable to believe this was actually happening to her.

Which was when Clarke registered that she was just letting this kiss happen to her, not actively participating. That had never been her style.

Bellamy had kept his kisses soft, almost coaxing, as if he was worried she’d need convincing. Clarke didn’t need convincing. She hooked both her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth. Her sudden burst of enthusiasm pushed him back, causing Clarke to fall forward, her knee gently knocking against his hip.

Bellamy started to chuckle, but when Clarke nipped his upper lip, he captured her mouth more forcefully, using the hand that had been braced on the floor to grip her waist and bring her closer. The tight fit of the dress meant she couldn’t easily straddle him, so Clarke settled for stretching her legs out across the floor and sitting sideways on his lap.

“This okay?” she asked against his lips.

“Awesome,” he grinned, the hand that wasn’t in her hair curling confidently around her lower back.

Clarke grinned back as she kept her arms locked around his neck, one hand sweeping up to curl into his hair. It was so soft. She kept playing with his hair as she kissed him since it was obvious he liked it from the way he murmured against her mouth.

She had only enjoyed a few more delightful minutes of his kisses before a bright light pierced the cosy dark of her closed eyelids.

After blinking them open, she instantly recognised the source of the light. “Oh, shit!” she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet.

“What’s wrong?” Bellamy asked, startled.

“Come on,” Clarke urged, putting a hand down to pull him up.

Though clearly confused, he took it and followed her as she rushed to a nearby bookcase, putting it between them and the window, which was now letting in a bright beam of light.

“Is that a torch?” Bellamy whispered.

Clarke sighed. “It’s the neighbourhood watch.”

“Since when does Arcadia have a neighbourhood watch?”

“Since Vera’s fern planter went missing last year.”

Bellamy snorted. “Seriously?”

“I still think it was Pike. They have this weird rivalry, and I swear I saw a fern in the back office around that time,” she added at his raised eyebrow. “But, yeah, the council said it wasn’t enough of an issue to increase police patrols, so the residents around here decided to start a neighbourhood watch. We don’t have one near my house, so I forgot about it.”

“Do you think they’ll still notice… “ he nodded towards their hastily abandoned mugs and cutlery next to Bellamy’s shirt.

Clarke’s nose scrunched up in thought. “Hopefully not. But if they do they’ll probably just think someone forgot to clean up at the end of the day. If they decide to raise it, they’ll come to me anyway. Sorry about this,” she added.

“’S’okay. Can’t get the Senior Librarian in trouble with the community,” he teased, leaning close.

Clarke turned into him, giggling. She had never done something like this before, of course she would almost get caught. “They should be gone soon. I hope.”

“I’m sure we can find a way to pass the time,” Bellamy said suggestively. He ran the rough pad of his thumb along her jawline, sparking shivers down Clarke’s spine.

Settling her hands on his broad shoulders, Clarke looked up at him from under her lashes. “What did you have in mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the update!  
I talk a little bit about my approach to this fic on my tumblr [here](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/187094722128/4-11-7-of-if-the-right-one-came-along-in) if anyone is interested; feel free to send me other questions from the list, whether it's for this fic or one of my others.  
The next chapter of this will be up in two weeks :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone following this story!  
Next song for the playlist is Lennon & Maisy's cover of [Boom Clap](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X6f1yACIoNY).

The sun was just starting to set on Thursday evening as Clarke parked her car in the centre of Polis. As she stepped out, her eyes caught on the overnight bag in the backseat and butterflies started to swirl in her stomach.

Although she’d hoped that last night with Bellamy would go well, she had never imagined they would end up making out, and in the library of all places. The neighbourhood watch’s interruption hadn’t lasted long, either. Pretty soon, she’d been able to stop worrying about getting caught and focus on Bellamy.

After so many years without much in the way of romantic prospects, just kissing someone again had been nice. If she’d ever kept a library bucket list, she could now tick making out with someone in the stacks off it.

However, another five minutes later, Bellamy’s closeness began to overwhelm her senses, and her mind started to race on to what would happen next. She should have been enjoying the kiss—which she _did;_ Bellamy was a good kisser—but Clarke needed the logistics, too. As much as she’d enjoyed making out in the library, she felt weird about the possibility of having sex there. But then whose place would they go back to? Hers was closer, and tidy enough. She did have a box of condoms somewhere but, thinking about it, they were unlikely to still be in date.

Thankfully, Bellamy had saved her from her spiralling thoughts when he told her he should go soon because of an early morning skype call. He’d sounded reluctant, and Clarke was, too, but she felt the break to get her thoughts in order would do her good. So, they’d shared a cab, dropping her off at hers before taking him back to his place, but not without making plans for the following evening—this evening.

On the one hand, Clarke had been glad for the breathing room. It meant she could re-assess her appearance and try to get rid of that weird, dry patch of skin near her elbow. More importantly, it meant she’d had time to seriously consider having sex with Bellamy rather than letting herself get swept up by the moment.

On reflection, she really did want to sleep with him. And not just because it had been a while. She’d had a lot of fun with Bellamy, and Clarke was certain sex with him would be just as enjoyable.

However, the delay had also allowed her nerves to overtake the excitement. She might be more experienced than when she had first thought there was a possibility of sleeping with Bellamy Blake, but his experience still greatly outweighed hers. After all, she’d been single for years while he’d just broken up with a literal model-turned-actress. It was not reassuring to say the least.

She was supposed to have a video call of her own that morning to catch-up with Wells before her yoga class, but he’d had to cancel, so she hadn’t had anyone to talk her down either.

Thankfully, Clarke still had a bit more time before she had to deal with those specific nerves. She and Bellamy were grabbing a bite to eat in Polis first, so she left the overnight bag in the car and only took her handbag along.

As she walked from the parking lot back to the square where she’d gotten off the bus last night, Clarke was glad that her commitment that afternoon had dictated today’s choice of outfit. It meant she hadn’t stressed over what to wear again. A simple jeans and top combo was always her choice when she was at the hospital, and she wasn’t going to change that just because she was meeting Bellamy afterwards. Though, she might have tried on a few different sweaters before deciding on one, just to compare how cute they looked.

It wasn’t long before she noticed Bellamy, standing at the periphery of the square, watching the crowds milling around all the new stalls for the food festival. Although they were meeting in a public place, the large crowd drawn by the first night of the festival should provide enough cover to keep him safe from too many prying eyes.

She wondered whether she should hug him or not—they hadn’t yesterday when she’d arrived at the restaurant, but he had given her a quick hug in the cab as they said goodbye.

As she got closer, however, she was too busy laughing to feel awkward.

“What?” he said with a wry smile at her giggles. “Is it really that bad?” he asked, adjusting his cap.

“Can you even see in those things?” she asked.

Underneath Bellamy’s baseball cap, he was wearing large aviator sunglasses that obscured most of his face. He wouldn’t have looked out of place on a hot summer’s day (at least from the neck up—his maroon sweater was more suited to this cooler weather), but with the sun starting to fade, he looked a little out of place, to say the least.

“Well enough. As long as it doesn’t get dark too quickly, I’ll be able to see my food,” he joked.

“If you’d rather do something else—” Clarke began to offer. Part of the reason she’d suggested the food festival was because she’d tried some good stuff the last couple of years coming with Harper and Monty. They weren’t going to be able to come together this time, and she’d felt odd coming out to Polis to get food on her own. But maybe, despite the crowd cover, it wasn’t such a good suggestion.

“No, I didn’t come back just to hole up indoors the whole time. And after smelling all this food for the last ten minutes, I am not leaving without trying some,” he finished seriously.

Clarke laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Hi, by the way,” he added, bending forward to give her a hug.

“Hi,” Clarke said into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his back. The hug was over too quickly for her liking, but it was just long enough to breathe in the woodsy scent she had so enjoyed last night. Was it his cologne or just Bellamy?

“Do you have a favourite then? If you’ve seen the food already?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear and hoping she didn’t look too flushed.

“The tacos smell really good, but the line at their stand is one of the longest, so if you’re starving—“

“No, I don’t mind waiting. And tacos sounds great.”

“Cool.” He smiled. “It’s just through here.”

Clarke followed his directions, asking as they walked, “So, how was your call with Octavia and your mom this morning? They’re both well, I hope.”

“Yeah, they’re good, thanks. Mom is enjoying having a boyfriend who basically pays for everything, so she doesn’t have to do a lot. O is trying to do as much as possible, I think.”

They gave the stand’s menu a quick glance before agreeing on their choice. As they walked past the line, Gabriel who ran the monthly sci-fi and fantasy book club spotted her. She returned his wave before turning back to Bellamy. “What do you think of Aurora’s boyfriend?” Clarke asked, curious.

“I figure you must have met him before me,” Bellamy noted, smirking.

“True, though not knowingly.” They joined the back of the line as Clarke went on, “It was only one time; I saw Ricardo shopping with Vera one day, and she just introduced him as a friend she was helping to buy a gift. I only realised later it was for Aurora. It sounded like he kept changing his mind because he wanted to be sure she would like it, which I thought was kind of sweet.”

“Yeah, I— In all honesty, I didn’t want to like him. I mean, when my mom told me about him, she had already decided she would be moving to Spain to be with him, which…”

“That must have been a shock.”

Bellamy nodded. “But once I actually met him, I realised he was a good guy. Mom’s never been this relaxed in my whole life. It was almost creepy at first, but it’s nice. I’m happy for her.” It was odd not seeing his eyes, hidden as they were under the oversized sunglasses. Bellamy always held so much emotion in his eyes, Clarke found it odd parsing his expression without it, but he looked relaxed enough that she decided he was genuine.

“That’s good. I guess you were living far apart already, but it must be weird having her settled in another country. At least O’s planning to come back.”

“Yeah. But I’ve been able to visit Mom a few times, and I actually speak to her a lot more regularly than O,” Bellamy admitted. “I guess we started making more time to catch up since she moved abroad, but O’s always between places, so she’s a lot harder to pin down. It was nice to chat the three of us.”

“When was the last time all three of you were together?”

“Ages ago,” he sighed. The light began to fade and Bellamy took off his sunglasses, hooking them into the neckline of his sweater as he thought it over. “I wanted to come down to help Mom move, but the timing didn’t work out with work. It must have been the time she and O came to visit me in LA the year before that.”

Clarke was ready to ask more about his family, but Bellamy beat her to it. “How was your day? You said you weren’t at work, but you had some plans, right?”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah, Thursdays and Sundays are my days off, but I was at the county hospital this afternoon.” Bellamy looked at her curiously, so she explained, “I do arts and crafts activities for the patients.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You spent your day off work volunteering?” Bashfully, she looked away to observe the line in front of them at the impressed note in his voice.

“Just every other week,” she said with a shrug.

“Oh, is that all?”

“It’s only for a couple of hours,” Clarke pointed out. 

They continued to shuffle forward as Bellamy asked, “How long have you been doing that?”

“A few years. The hospital was really great looking after my dad, as well as someone else I know,” Clarke explained without going into detail of Madi’s experience with her mom. “After he passed away, I felt like doing something there. I mean, not right away, but later, once I was up to it. I only planned to do two sessions, but I really liked it, and they can always use the help, so I’ve just kept going.”

“That’s great and really nice of you.” Clarke shrugged off her pleased reaction. The positivity was nice, especially compared to her mother’s reminders that she could just get a job at a hospital and do something more useful than her current career, but she still felt embarrassed by the praise. She hoped they could move onto a new subject when Bellamy surprised her by saying, in a more serious tone, “I was really sorry about your dad.”

“I know,” Clarke replied, looking down at the paved ground uncomfortably.

Their emails had petered out well before her father’s death, but afterwards, Bellamy had sent her one out of the blue with his sympathies. And that hadn’t been all he’d sent.

“Thank you for sending flowers,” she added. Clarke hadn’t expected to see Aurora Blake at the wake, a large bouquet in hand. When she’d read the accompanying sympathy card later that night, a quote from one of her favourite books was inside, and she’d realised it could only have come from Bellamy.

“You already thanked me for that,” Bellamy pointed out, gentle.

That was technically true. She had been drunk enough that night to send him a succinct “thank you” right away. If she’d waited to reply, maybe she would have sent him something longer, something that would have compelled him to respond. Or maybe, once she was sober, she would have been gripped by the same self-doubt that had stopped her from writing to him again so many times after.

“Still. I really appreciated it,” Clarke said quietly.

Things seemed to have flowed so easily between them since he’d come back—this current line of slightly awkward conversation notwithstanding—that it was hard to fathom that had been their last communication before this week.

She didn’t want to think about that.

“Um, did you notice earlier whether they’ll take a card?”

It was the most obvious non sequitur Clarke had ever made, but Bellamy didn’t call her on it, instead trying to look over the people still in front of them to make out the signs on the front of the stall.

“No, sorry, I didn’t see. They probably do, but don’t worry. I’ll get this.”

“I might have enough in cash. I’m just not sure,” Clarke protested, rooting around in her handbag for her wallet. They had split last night’s dinner, and she’d feel weird not paying for herself.

“It’s fine. You can get it next time,” he said easily.

The mention of next time did strange things to her stomach. Future meetings had certainly been implied last night, but the way he spoke so casually—as if, _of course_ they would be getting dinner together again—took her back to the ease of their library days.

Which didn’t make sense, really; as close as they had been then, they’d both had little time to spend together outside of work. They’d spent all of their shared lunch breaks together after they became friends, but they hadn’t ever gone out for food; Clarke brought a lunch prepared by her family’s housekeeper, which Bellamy had always teased her about. The closest they’d come was picking up Chinese takeout together from Mrs. Shin’s place whenever their parents weren’t home for dinner. But Bellamy would always take his order back to Polis to share with Octavia, leaving Clarke to eat alone at home.

Perhaps it wasn’t the food, but the plans, the certainty of being in each other’s lives. Clarke couldn’t help but ache, knowing there was a time limit. Still, she wasn’t going to gain anything by being melancholy during the time they did have together.

If Bellamy wanted to spend a lot of his holiday with her, Clarke wasn’t going to be the one to remind him of everything else he could be doing.

“Okay. Thanks.”

She ceased looking for her wallet, but before closing her bag, Clarke spotted the notification light on her phone. Turning the screen on, she saw a new message alert from Harper, with a photo attached. Curiosity pulled at her enough to take the phone out of her bag, unlock it, and view the photo.

It was a picture of Jordan in his nursery, on his play mat with some toys. He was proudly beaming a gummy smile at the camera, wearing a onesie covered in sea creatures. Clarke had gifted it to him a month ago, but it hadn’t quite fit him then. Harper had captioned the photo with the message, “Thank you for my onesie Aunty Clarke! Can’t wait to see you on Saturday—love you, Jordan” followed by a string of smiley face and heart emojis.

Clarke couldn’t stop the beam that spread over her face.

“Cute kid,” Bellamy commented.

“Yeah, he is. That’s Jordan, my friends Harper and Monty’s son,” she said, making it full size and tilting the phone so Bellamy could see the photo more clearly.

“How old is he?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Almost seven months. I’m just going to reply quickly,” she said. She hadn’t mentioned anything about Bellamy to Harper since their phone conversation the other day, but figured that conversation could wait until she saw her in person.

“Sorry.” She flashed him an apologetic smile as she typed. “I just want to check about our plans for Saturday before I forget.”

Bellamy didn’t seem annoyed though, an easy smile on his face. “It’s fine. What are you guys doing?”

“They’re coming to Storytime at the library, and then we’re doing a picnic lunch after,” Clarke explained, not looking at him as she replied. “I need to check what food Harper wants me to bring.”

Clarke practically jumped when she felt Bellamy’s hand on her back. Looking up from her phone she realised he was prompting her to shuffle forward since she had been too busy texting to notice the space that had opened . She apologised to the people behind them before moving up.

“You said they do that more regularly now, right?”

She tried to tamp down the feeling of disappointment that filled her after his hand returned to his pocket. “Yeah, every week. Harper normally takes Jordan to the Storytime sessions at the Mecha library since that’s closer for them, but they’re coming to Arcadia, too, while I’m running it.” Monty had come the previous weekend too, which had been nice since Clarke had seen a lot less of him the past few months, but he was working this Saturday.

“You are?” he said, seeming intrigued.

“It’s just a temporary thing. I normally only help out a little bit—Frankie does a lot of baby classes in the area and she usually runs it, but I’m covering for her this month while she’s on holiday,” Clarke explained, hoping she sounded normal. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers through her sweater and she missed the warmth, as fleeting as it had been. She couldn’t ask him to put his hand on her back again. But she could stand a little closer, Clarke thought as they moved further down the line. 

“Do you like doing that?” He didn’t seem phased that her arm was brushing against his now.

“Yeah, actually. It can get a little stressful, but it’s usually fun. And Frankie started doing themed weeks, so I’m just following her plan for the themes really.”

“Sounds cool. I noticed the kids’ book section was way bigger than when I was there.”

Clarke glanced away from Bellamy’s approving smile, pleased. She’d had to push for that for a while since Pike hadn’t thought it was a priority area for spending. However, as Clarke had predicted, the growing selection in addition to more activities had slowly brought in more people, particularly in the last few years as a lot more young families moved to the area. “Yeah, that’s taken a while, but we’re getting there.”

Clarke’s phone vibrated in her hands, and when she looked down, she saw a response from Harper confirming her food requests. Clarke replied with an agreement and scrolled up to the picture a final time.

Before she could lock her phone, Bellamy asked, “Is that his nursery?” When she replied in the affirmative, he added, “That’s a really cool design on the walls, I didn’t realise it was their home at first.”

“Thanks.” She waited a beat before admitting, “I actually did the painting.”

Bellamy’s eyes grew wide. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Clarke smiled shyly at the awe in his voice. “It was my gift to them.”

“Do you have any more pictures of it?”

She did, but she only had time to confirm as they had arrived at the front of the line.

Clarke tucked her phone away and they gave their order quickly—or as quick as they could since they had spent the whole time talking and forgotten what they actually wanted to order.

It didn’t take long to receive their completed orders, but finding somewhere to sit did. All the new seats and tables that had been put in for the festival were full, and although Bellamy had suggested finding a spot at the old permanent benches a little farther away while they waited for their food, it was clear when they got there, however, that they weren’t the only ones with that idea. After walking a bit farther and following a tip from one of the ladies in the library craft club that they walked past, they managed to find a small, vacant table —though when they approached, it quickly became obvious why. Although the wooden table was intended for two people, with a small bench seat attached to opposite sides, one of the wooden benches was broken in too many pieces to sit down on.

“Do you want to keep looking?” Clarke asked.

“I’d rather eat, to be honest. I think we could both fit on this side—if you don’t mind sharing?”

Clarke had her reservations that it would be a easy fit—Bellamy’s broad frame surely couldn’t sit comfortably on this tiny bench with her—but she certainly didn’t have a problem with cosying up to him to try to squeeze in.

“I don’t mind,” she said, setting her drink and food down on the table before stepping over the bench to sit.

Bellamy let her get settled as he approached to sit on her left.

“Have you got enough room?” he asked once he was in place. He’d put his sunglasses back on before they left the taco stand, but he took them off again now, placing them on top of his baseball cap.

The edge of her thigh was hanging off the end, but only slightly, and her butt felt safely situated, so she answered in the affirmative. “Do you?” she asked, still suspect even though he had started unwrapping the foil covering his tray. He was pressed quite closely next to her, not that she was complaining.

“I’m good.” He bit into his first taco and let out a pleased groan not all that dissimilar to one he’d let out when they’d been kissing last night. He didn’t notice Clarke’s subsequent blush as he offered her a bite to try.

As they ate, Clarke couldn’t help but notice how different this meal felt to the previous night, at least to the restaurant portion. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it, but this, sharing food and a too small bench, felt so much more casual. She didn’t feel the same pressure to keep up the conversation between mouthfuls now she knew it wasn’t going to be her only chance to talk to him.

“Do you think we should have got more?” Clarke wondered as she finished the taco he’d given her.

“If you’re still hungry, we can go get something else—”

“No, I’m fine. I just thought you might be. You’ve nearly finished already,” she observed, taking a sip of her drink.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “I was, but I’m good now.”

Clarke put her drink back down and reached for her last taco when he added, “Oh, you’ve got—“

He finished by touching his thumb to her lip.

Clarke’s eyes shot up and locked on his face. His eyes were still shadowed by his cap, but his gaze was directed at her mouth. Now that his thumb had made contact, she could feel a piece of something else there as well. She resisted the sudden urge to swipe it away with her tongue, knowing if she did she would make contact with his skin. He didn’t say anything, but she could tell he was distracted when he started to outline her cupid’s bow, making Clarke inhale sharply.

That seemed to jolt him back to his senses, so he pulled his thumb away, showing her the red fleck stuck to it. “Sorry, you had salsa.”

“That’s okay,” Clarke said, reaching for her napkin in case there was any left. While she dabbed her lip, her eyes were drawn to the sight of Bellamy absently sucking the salsa off the pad of his thumb.

Clarke honestly had never felt like all these years she’d been single were a big deal. But if just the sight of Bellamy’s mouth pursed around his thumb was enough to make her thighs clench, maybe she had missed sex more than she realised.

Hopefully, he didn’t notice her involuntary reaction, but he did spot her heated gaze, locking eyes with her. For a second, she couldn’t look away. The setting sun cast an ethereal glow on Bellamy’s face. He looked like something out of a painting, even with the silly cap hiding most of his beautiful hair. She was taken by the urge to touch him, to trace the freckles speckled across his skin. Clarke held her breath, wondering if she was actually going to do it for a long moment.

Until a bark of raucous laughter went up at a table behind them, breaking the tension. They clearly weren’t being closely observed, but the reminder of their public location cooled Clarke’s flame somewhat.

“I should let you finish that,” he said, nodding to her food, his voice rougher than before.

Clarke simply nodded, not trusting her voice for the moment, but she reached for her soda first.

As Bellamy finished cleaning his hands—sadly with a napkin this time—he remembered, “Hey, you were going to show me photos.”

Clarke was surprised he hadn’t forgotten. “If you want.”

“I want,” he said seriously.

Before her mind could complete that sentence with something dirty, Clarke got her phone out of her bag. “Let me just find the right area; my camera roll for the last few months is basically all pictures of Jordan,” she said with a laugh.

Clarke resumed eating once she got to the nursery in progress shots and handed the phone over, pretending she wasn’t anxiously awaiting more comments on her artwork.

“Wow, that looks amazing, Clarke. And really nice of you to do it as a gift.”

“I enjoyed doing it, so it wasn’t a big deal,” she replied, though very pleased by his clearly genuine compliment.

“Still, that must have taken a long time. You must have spent a while designing it beforehand, too. You ever thought about doing it professionally?” he asked, looking back up from the phone.

“I get to do some art-related stuff at work, with graphics and things.”

Bellamy raised a brow. “Like designing the poster for my talk? Is that really what you like doing with art?”

Clarke laughed. “I have thought about it, over the years, but…” She shrugged. “Art is how I relax, you know? I love doing it for fun, or for gifts, but I don’t think I really want it to be my job. I just think if it became a work thing, it would become stressful. I know they say do what you love, but…”

Bellamy nodded his understanding. “I get it. When I first started writing, it was an escape. And then I had to write my book, and I had all these deadlines and editing—so much editing.”

“Yeah, I bet. So, you know, you haven’t told me about any of that.”

He furrowed his brow. “Well, you know more than most people about my writing. You were my first critic after all.”

“Hey,” she pouted. “I was your first _editor_,” she corrected, drawing a smile out of him. “But all I got to read were some of your short stories—“

“Oh, is that _all_!” His mouth opened wide as he leaned back in mock-hurt. “You were the first person I ever let read my work. That was a big deal to me.”

“I know, I know,” Clarke assured, her hand resting on his back in a conciliatory gesture. But even through his sweater she could feel the heat of his body, so she quickly thought better of the action. “But I meant I only read your fiction.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to read my assignments.”

“I know. I just didn’t realise you were interested in going down that path. I mean, I knew you were interested in history and teaching was something you were considering, but— When I heard you were being published, I automatically assumed it would be fiction, and I was surprised when it wasn’t. Not that it’s not a great achievement,” she hastened to add when Bellamy was quiet at her side. “Obviously, it’s still a huge thing, I’m not trying to say it’s not as good or anything—“

“I know what you mean,” he interrupted kindly saving her from rambling on. “It hadn’t been something I thought I’d do either. I mean, neither was television,” he added with a laugh.

“Which I absolutely want to hear more about, too, but let’s go chronologically,” she decided, making Bellamy smirk. “I don’t know how I let you dodge out of talking about all this stuff yesterday.”

“I wasn’t dodging,” he protested.

Clarke raised her eyebrows at him. “You let me go on for like an _hour_ about all the after school clubs at the library.”

“Because they sounded pretty interesting. I wish we’d had a Code Club when I was a kid!”

Clarke smirked. The opening was too easy. “Yeah, but you’re so old, Bell. Did the library even have computers when you were a kid?”

“Wow, you haven’t grown up at all!”

“Says the guy who just elbowed me,” Clarke laughed, elbowing him back.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, leaning over slightly too far and almost sliding off the bench.

Clarke shot a hand out to keep him seated, and Bellamy then used what Clarke assumed was excellent core strength to pull himself back up.

“How did you nearly fall?” she asked, trying not to laugh. She leaned back to look behind him and realised just how far he was hanging off the bench. “Oh my God, Bell. Why didn’t you say you didn’t have any room?” she added, starting to shift so he would have more.

“I’m okay,” he assured her, not moving to fill in the new space.

“Your ass is barely on this bench.”

He smirked. “Why, Clarke, have you been checking out my ass?”

She could feel her face turn red even as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Move over.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Clarke did her best to ignore the shiver that ran down the back of her neck at his words. Instead, she focused on wiping her hands clean as he settled in next to her. “So,” she said firmly, “tell me how the book came about.”

He sighed. “Basically, I got lucky. One of my master’s advisors had published a couple of books. He said he thought my thesis had potential, and it kind of went from there, through his connections.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, it worked out really well for me. I wouldn’t have gotten the show without it—and my agent, Miller, he’s my best friend,” Bellamy said.

Clarke smiled back, trying not to think too hard about why that final statement made her feel weird. Bellamy might have been her best friend once, but so much time had passed that she wouldn’t call him her best friend now. It didn’t make sense to feel hurt that she wasn’t his anymore either.

But who would she call her best friend now? For a while after Bellamy, it had been Raven, who she’d met at college. They’d bonded instantly when they picked each other over Finn, Clarke’s first boyfriend who’d actually made her the other woman in his years-long relationship with Raven. Raven and Clarke had managed to stay close even after Clarke had dropped out and returned to Arcadia to look after her Dad. But over the years, they’d started to see less and less of each other, and that was especially true now that Raven worked in a top position for NASA. Clarke had been thrilled when Raven deservedly got her dream job, but her busy schedule meant the regularity of their chats had significantly waned in the last two years.

Wells was her longest friend, longer than Bellamy even. She’d known him as long as Octavia, and they’d become much closer after the Blakes’ move to Polis. But then the Jahas had left the state a few years later. Her friendship with Wells hadn’t suffered the same death as hers and Octavia’s since their parents were friends. Then Abby moved to Washington seven years ago, only half an hour away from Wells and his dad, so Clarke got to see him more frequently, a welcome source of relief whenever she had to visit her mom.

Harper and Monty she’d only met five years ago, Monty having been a former colleague of Raven’s, who put the couple in touch with Clarke when they ended up moving so close to her. Luckily, she’d had more in common with the pair than just a mutual friend, and the three had become close very quickly.

Maybe Harper was her best friend now, at least in the sense of the friend that she saw most often and shared most of herself with. She was certainly one of them. But Monty and a girl called Monroe that Harper had known since kindergarten were Harper’s best friends, not Clarke.

“Did you ever read it?” Bellamy asked.

“Your book? Of course!” Clarke replied. The jolt with which his question interrupted her previous line of thinking was underlined by a sudden hurt that he ever considered she might not have. She might not have finished it, but there was never a scenario where she wouldn’t have at least _tried_ to read it.

He smiled at the wrinkle in her nose. “I just remember you used to struggle with non-fiction.”

Clarke flushed. “I still do,” she admitted, “but you have a great writing style, which made it a lot easier.” It wasn’t a lie; she very much believed that. She just happened to leave out the part that it still hadn’t been enough for her to get through the whole thing in one go.

He ducked his head, pleased with the compliment. “I’m surprised you don’t have a list of notes on what I can do to improve.”

That would require Clarke to admit to not completing it, and she still felt too guilty to confess to that yet. “Well, if you really want notes, I can give you some after we have sex.” The comment slipped out, and part of her was mortified until Bellamy threw his head back and laughed.

His hearty chuckle brought a pleased smile to Clarke’s face, warming her up. She started sipping on what was left of her soda to cool back down.

Bellamy leaned in to ask in a lower voice, “So, you’re still up for that then? I won’t hold you to it if you’re not comfortable.”

“No, I-I’m comfortable. In fact, my last regular thing was casual sex with a friend— So, yeah, friends with benefits is good with me.” Clarke suddenly remembered the discussion she and Niylah had about their situation early on and realised they probably did need to clarify a few points before anything happened. “Actually…”

“Yeah?”

She looked around, noticing that although some people had left since they sat down, others had taken their place. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, though.

“Would it be okay if… I know it’s not exactly dating, but I-I’m not planning on sleeping with anyone else, and if you… “ Clarke floundered a little at how best to word it. It had been easy to tell Niylah she was more comfortable with a friends with benefits arrangement that was also exclusive, but she felt awkward requesting that from Bellamy. Clarke knew she didn’t have anyone else lined up, but the way Bree had been looking at Bellamy the other day was still fresh in Clarke’s mind. She highly doubted Bree would be the only one trying to hook up with the hot, famous guy visiting his small hometown.

“I wasn’t planning on that either,” Bellamy said easily before she could figure it out. “Exclusive is good with me. Can I check something, too?”

“Of course,” Clarke said.

“If it comes up, I was just going to tell people we’re friends, if that’s okay? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a casual relationship, but you know what people are like. There’s going to be enough gossip about me as it is.”

Maybe it should have made her feel bad, but Clarke hadn’t expected Bellamy to want to tell people about them at all, so he didn’t need the excuse. “That’s fine with me.” Then she added, “Would it be okay if I told a close friend though? Harper wouldn’t gossip.”

_Well, she would with Monty_, Clarke thought, but that didn’t count. They wouldn’t tell anyone else. 

“Yeah, sure. I don’t want to make you keep secrets from your friends or anything. I just don’t want any rumours getting back to my mom’s friends,” he said, pulling a face that made Clarke laugh.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“So, what happened with your friend then?” Bellamy looked curiously at her.

“Harper?” Clarke raised a brow, not understanding.

“No, the one you mentioned before? That you had a casual thing with?”

“Oh, Niylah. Nothing happened really, we just sort of fizzled out. Neither of us were looking for a relationship at the time. We had fun for about five months, and then she said she meant someone she wanted to date. So we ended it.” Clarke shrugged.

“Wasn’t that hard?” he asked, looking concerned. “I mean, if you started out not looking for something, and then she…” Bellamy trailed off but seemed aghast at the idea that someone would tell her they didn’t want something serious only for it to turn out they didn’t want to be serious with _her_.

“No,” Clarke replied with a genuine ease. “I really wasn’t in a place for anything serious back then.” Mainly because it hadn’t been that long after her dad, but she didn’t want to bring that subject up again. “And Niylah wasn’t either, until she met the right person. We’re friends still—I actually went to the wedding when they got married, but unfortunately it didn’t work out and they got divorced last year.”

Bellamy frowned. “Was it a while ago, then, or did they just have a really short relationship?”

“It was a while ago,” Clarke confirmed. “Like, five— six years ago,” she corrected, surprising even herself at just how long it had been.

Bellamy nodded, but she could tell he seemed surprised.

She stared at her drink. “I guess that sounds weird when you were just in a serious relationship.”

“No, it’s not weird,” he said immediately. “To be honest, I probably would have been better off doing something more casual than going into a relationship so quickly.”

“Was it a really rough breakup then?”

He made an odd, jerky gesture. “Not really. I’m not torn up about it or anything,” he said.

“It’s okay if you are,” Clarke assured. The idea of him still being upset over it hadn’t really occurred to her since he had seemed fine when it came up yesterday, but his evasiveness made her worry. As much as she knew friends with benefits was the most she could hope for with Bellamy, Clarke still felt weird at the idea of just being a rebound from his Hollywood girlfriend. “It was so recent…”

“We’re still friendly. I… “ Bellamy sighed, looking around. Then he asked, “Do you want anything else from the festival, or are you okay?”

Clarke blinked at his abrupt change. “I’m good.”

“Do you mind starting to head back, then?” He asked, balling the empty food wrappers.

“Sure.”

Clarke didn’t think she was particularly slow moving in getting up, but Bellamy seemed to have risen and deposited their rubbish at the nearby collection point before she had stepped around the bench. It made her wondering if he was rushing to leave.

Maybe she had said the wrong thing. It came from a place of concern, more for him than anything else, but perhaps it was too pushy.

As they walked away, Clarke started to apologise, but Bellamy insisted it was okay.

“I just didn’t want anyone to overhear,” he explained.

Clarke expected that to be the end of it. However, after a few minutes of silence, they cleared the crowd and Bellamy continued, “The thing is, the breakup wasn’t really that recent.”

“Wasn’t it like a month ago?” Clarke asked, confused. “I wasn’t even checking up on you, it was just _everywhere_.”

Bellamy looked around, as if checking for anyone listening in. “Look, I’m only telling you this because it’s you. You can’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Okay.”

He looked at her intently as he continued, “I’m serious, not even your friend Harper or someone else you’re close to. Even if you trust them, people sometimes let things slip, and this is a much bigger deal than my mom hearing something about us.“

“Bellamy, I would never tell anyone something you shared with me in confidence,” Clarke replied, solemn.

“I know.” He scratched the back of his head nervously before admitting, “Echo and I actually broke up more like four months ago.”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “What?” Realising she may have spoken too loudly, she repeated in a lower tone, “What?”

Her hushed whisper made him smile. His own voice was quiet though as he explained, “We realised we didn’t work as a couple and decided to call it quits. But it was just before the new season premiered, and Echo’s film was coming out a month after that. Neither of us wanted to deal with questions about the breakup on the press tours, so…”

“It was easier to just pretend you were still together,” Clarke realised.

“We didn’t have to do much—conflicting press tours gave us an easy excuse to avoid each other—just talk around questions. I’d hoped the fact that we were hardly together would mean the gossip would die down, but sometimes it felt like it only made people more interested.” He shrugged, but Clarke could tell the media frenzy over the relationship bothered him more than he was letting on. Bellamy had been famous before Echo, of course, but the relationship had taken his fame to a different level. She didn’t know how to ask about that, though he didn’t seem interested in talking about it anymore. He continued, “Anyway, I appreciate your concern, but you don’t have to worry. I’m not hung up on her.”

Considering how long it had taken her to get over her only two serious breakups, Clarke wasn’t entirely convinced, but maybe it really wasn’t that big a deal for him. He certainly hadn’t been acting like he was nursing a broken heart. There was no point in saying she was sorry about the end of the relationship when it seemed like the best thing. “Thank you for trusting me with the truth,” Clarke said finally.

He smiled then. “I figure you’ve had plenty of opportunity to sell stories about me to the press already.”

Clarke smiled back, warmth spreading through her at his faith in her, even after only a few days.

“Hi, Clarke!”

They startled and looked across the path to a young girl waving eagerly at them. Her other hand was in her mother’s.

“Hi, Hope,” Clarke called, waving back. “Diyoza,” she added to the lady.

“Mom said we can get ice cream!” Hope announced with excitement.

Clarke laughed, expecting them to come over and talk—Clarke and Diyoza weren’t close, but they knew each other well enough for a few minutes conversation in passing—but instead, Diyoza studied her and Bellamy for a moment before smirking.

Clarke fought the surge of shyness that swelled within her. There wasn’t anything to see or smirk about. They weren’t even touching.

“Catch up with you later,” Diyoza said knowingly, leading Hope in the other direction.

Clarke returned Hope’s wave goodbye, trying to shake the feeling that she had been caught.

“Friend of yours?” Bellamy asked.

“Not exactly. I mainly know her through work, but they used to come to Storytime when Hope was younger. Diyoza’s on the County Council. She’s a really private person, though, I don’t actually know that much about her,” Clarke noted as they resumed their walk back to the car. “I’m not sure anyone does. I guess that must be the dream for you?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy laughed. “Though I’m thinking I might have overreacted to yesterday’s incident,” he said. He took off the sunglasses still perched on top of his cap, before removing the cap too. Clarke admired the way the sunset caught on his curls as he ruffled them.

“Aw, don’t feel bad that you didn’t get mobbed today,” she joked. “I’m sure some people recognised you, but were just being polite.”

“Maybe. I think it’s more that I’m not the real celebrity here.”

Clarke frowned for a moment, not catching his drift. “Wait, me?”

He smirked. “Yeah, you.”

“That’s not—“ Clarke stopped abruptly, only then realising just how many people she had interacted with that evening. It hadn’t struck her as odd because she was used to seeing familiar faces when she was out and about. She definitely didn’t consider that to be _celebrity_. “That’s just a small town thing.”

“I might have believed that in Arcadia, even though ‘_small’_ town is a bit of a stretch, but we’re in Polis. You telling me it’s a small county thing?”

“Yes! The food festival is a lot more popular this year; they didn’t have that big kids area last year. It’s not like I know everyone—“ Clarke stopped as they came in sight of the parking lot and realised she recognised one of the cars pulling into a spot near her car. If they continued on their current path, the occupants would almost certainly run into them.

Any other time, she would have been happy to see Madi and Charlotte, would have stopped for a chat with the family. But when she was with Bellamy, who the girls would no doubt recognise and want to question? When they knew she bought a new lipstick before dinner with a friend? When she and Bellamy were In the middle of _this_ conversation?

Not happening.

“I’ve got to pay,” Clarke said, fishing her ticket out of her bag and changing course.

“Yeah, but there’s a machine near where you parked.”

“I like this one,” she said, strolling away and ignoring him. Hopefully, they wouldn’t see her.

He caught up with her, but not before he’d noticed what had caused her sudden turn. “More adoring fans, Clarke?” he asked with a smirk. “Do you want to borrow my sunglasses?”

She shoved him. Hard.

Once Bellamy recovered from his amusement and they agreed to disagree on the subject of her “level of local celebrity” (she internally eye rolled at the thought), she insisted Bellamy tell her about how he ended up on the show—being the actual celebrity between them.

As they drove, he explained how one of the producers had attended a talk he’d done promoting the book, and had remembered him when they were putting the show together, managing to get in touch through his agent Miller.

Clarke took note of how Bellamy phrased it as the product of good luck, just like he’d talked about the book.

Of course, Clarke knew there had to be an element of luck or good timing with these things, but she didn’t like how Bellamy was downplaying his own talent and hard work. Back in their library days, she would have called him out on that immediately, but she felt like she needed to approach him more diplomatically now. She could gush about how he was the best presenter on the show for hours—and she had to Harper, Monty, and Wells.

Actually, now that she thought about it, Wells had sat through multiple skype calls with her where, when it came time for her to update him on her life, all she had done was go on about how amazing Bellamy had been in the episodes she’d just watched. (That settled it, Wells was her best friend, and she should get him something nice the next time she visited.)

However, without finishing the book, and not wanting to tell Bellamy that either, she couldn’t bring it up yet.

“So, this is your place, huh?” Clarke asked as they got out of the car. She’d thought he was staying in one of the apartments, but it was actually a one-story house. She wondered, not for the first time, how much money Vera was sitting on for someone who only ever wore gardening-appropriate clothes. She was always prepared for a spot of her favourite hobby (or her “one true love” as her son Marcus joked whenever he came back to town).

“Yeah, this is the one.”

Bellamy went ahead and unlocked the door as Clarke admired the flowers lining the small, tidy front lawn. She’d yet to see one of Vera’s properties that wasn’t smartly turned out, and this was no exception.

“It’s bigger than I wanted, really,” Bellamy explained as he let her in. “But Vera insisted on the best one she had free.”

“It’s nice,” Clarke said, dropping her bags on the floor and looking around. The front door opened on a large living room with a small dining area at the back. The open door at the far end showed a kitchen, while a corridor undoubtedly led to the rest of the place. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

Bellamy raised a brow in confusion until he spotted Clarke’s gaze had fallen on the piles of books on the coffee table.

“I figured I’d catch up with some reading while I was here.”

“I thought you were only here for a few weeks,” Clarke joked, picking the first off the pile. Perhaps unsurprisingly it was a history book but the next was on science. Underneath that lay an assortment of fiction, ranging from crime to young adult. Some of the books she had only heard of via the library shelves, but a few were on her to-read pile; a pile that was roughly the same size, though it would take her a lot longer than a few weeks to work through.

“I read fast. And it’s not like I have a lot planned while I’m here.”

“You know, you never really told me why you were here,” Clarke realised.

“I thought I said. I wanted a holiday.”

“Yes,” Clarke agreed. He had mentioned that in passing during dinner last night, before he’d quickly changed the conversation back to her. It hadn’t occurred to her at the time, but maybe he’d been trying to talk around it on purpose. “But you could have gone on holiday anywhere. Don’t tell me you got bored travelling the world when you were filming.”

“No,” he said with a laugh, ducking his head. “Definitely not bored. I just needed— I wanted some down time, you know? Go somewhere quiet, not do anything? I’ve got a month to figure out some work stuff, and I wanted to get away from it all to make up my mind.”

“What kind of work stuff?” Clarke asked.

Bellamy’s face twisted. “It’s complicated. I don’t— I’d rather not get into it right now, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” He looked so stressed about it that she didn’t worry about the fact that he didn’t want to talk about it. He’d told her the truth about his breakup with Echo, after all; clearly, he felt like he could talk to her if he needed to.

Her response made him relax, but a charged pause lingered. Clarke bit her lip, wondering how to proceed. Perhaps this was as good an opening as any.

“Well, if you want a distraction…” Clarke said, leaning towards him suggestively.

A slow smile grew on his lips. “A distraction sounds good,” he replied, taking a step to close the distance between them.

Clarke pulled on the bottom of his sweater as his lips descended on hers. They traded a few slow kisses as Bellamy’s hands slipped under Clarke’s jacket to rest at the small of her back. Clarke’s arms fit around his shoulders, pressing her body close to his as he kissed her more urgently.

“So, which way is the bedroom?”

He chuckled and answered her with another kiss, nudging her backwards past the couch and slowly down the corridor.

His kisses were intense and dizzying, making Clarke feel like she was being led in a daze. The fog continued as they kicked off their shoes and lay down on the bed, Bellamy’s weight settling on top of her. He was heavy and warm and overwhelming after not being close to anyone like this in years—but in the best sort of way. He braced some of his weight on his elbows, but she focused on the points of their bodies that touched. Their socked feet rubbing against each other. His soft curls tickling her forehead. His chest, so solid underneath his soft sweater, pressing into her breasts. His mouth still drugging her with every swipe of his tongue.

That heavy fog broke when Bellamy’s right hand slipped under her sweater and started running up her side. She wanted his touch, and it should have made her feel hot, but instead, it tickled.

Clarke let out an involuntary giggle, jolting sharply away from his fingertips.

“Sorry,” he said, removing his hand from her skin.

“No, it’s okay,” she said, simultaneously wanting to cover her quickly reddening face. She wished she could just say she was a bit ticklish, but her sudden jerk and embarrassment made it obvious there was more to it than that. “Sorry,” she breathed out on a long sigh, looking up at him from under her lashes. “I’m just a little nervous.”

“Because of me?”

A little, Clarke thought, but he looked so concerned she didn’t want to own up to it. And it was only a small part of the reason, so she shook her head. “It’s just been a while. Like I said, you know, since Niylah.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, disappearing underneath his curls. He dropped to her right to lie on his side before responding. “Wait, so you mean— You haven’t had sex for _six_ years?”

Clarke frowned, pushing up on her elbows. She hadn’t thought it would be such a shock to him. “I told you earlier.”

“But… I thought you meant someone regular,” he explained. “Like, I figured you hooked up occasionally after that.”

“Oh. Well, no.” She didn’t feel embarrassed about it, but she could tell Bellamy was still processing.

Disappointed by his lack of response, Clarke was about to put a bit more distance between them when he said, “I didn’t pressure you or anything, did I?”

Clarke quickly shook her head. “No, Bellamy.”

“I know it’s pretty fast— Everything just felt so easy, and I thought we were on the same wavelength—“

“We are,” Clarke insisted. “I said yes because I thought this would be fun. I just didn’t realise I was also a bit nervous, that’s all. Maybe we could go slow?”

“Yeah, of course.” He shifted closer, clearly a bit more careful this time when he hovered above her. “You know, there’s a TV in here, too. We could just watch a movie if you want?” he offered, serious.

Clarke made a face, her nose wrinkling. “Not that slow.”

Bellamy chuckled.

“It’s really not that big a deal. I guess I just can’t jump straight back into it like I thought,” Clarke explained.

“Okay, noted,” he said, relaxing, now that he was clear on what she wanted. “Just tell me if you want me to stop or do anything differently okay?”

Clarke nodded. “I will.”

He kissed her slower this time, but Clarke soon became impatient and more insistent with her lips. Bellamy clearly took that as an invitation, rubbing his thumb against the sliver of skin between her jeans’ waistband and the bottom of her sweater. She felt a little prickly at the light touch, but it didn’t shock her until he tried to venture further once more. When his hand travelled over her stomach she jerked before inexplicably giggling again.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” She buried her face in his shoulder, embarrassed and frustrated.

“It’s okay,” he said, smoothing her sweater back down.

Clarke bit her lip as she wondered how best to proceed. He was still holding her tight, so she didn’t think he was about to kick her out or anything, but she didn’t know how to get out of her own head.

Bellamy surprised her by suggesting, “Listen, why don’t we just take sex off the table for tonight?”

Clarke lifted her head out of the crook of his neck to stare at him, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Just rule it out entirely.”

She furrowed a brow. “And when you say sex are you including, like, oral?”

“Yes.”

“Hand stuff?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “I mean everything.”

“And do what? Don’t say watch a movie—“

“I wasn’t going to.” He grinned. “I was thinking we could just make out. I mean, you seem fine with that part. What do you think?”

Clarke pondered this. “I honestly can’t remember the last time I just made out with somebody.” Since her and Niylah’s arrangement had been purely sex, they hadn’t spent much time together that didn’t end in some form of it. It must have been during her short-lived time at college in New York. But that was ten years ago now, which made her a little sad and wistful. She had always liked making out.

“It’s been a while for me too,” Bellamy admitted. “But I like making out.”

His smile convinced her he was telling the truth, so Clarke agreed.

Just making out was nice. It took the pressure off. Clarke let herself enjoy Bellamy’s kisses without thinking about what was going to happen next. His hands sometimes ran up and down her arms and her body, but never touched her skin, so the sensation didn’t take her by surprise.

When his kisses started to venture further down her jawline and the column of her throat, Clarke sucked in a tight breath, but didn’t squirm away.

“That okay?” he asked after placing a gentle kiss on the side of her neck.

“Uh huh.”

“What about this?” Slower, he dropped wet kisses to trace the boat neck of her sweater.

Clarke whimpered.

“You good?”

“I feel like I’m a teenager, trying to make out quietly so my parents don’t hear.”

“I hope I’m better than some fumbling teenager. And no one said you had to be quiet,” he finished with a long suck to her collarbone, making Clarke whine.

“Is it okay if I leave a mark?” he asked.

The mere thought of Bellamy marking her made her wet.

Bellamy proved he knew it from the way he chuckled against her skin when her thighs clenched around him. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, his confidence almost arrogant.

“Getting a hickey definitely takes me back to high school,” she snarked, making him chuckle against her skin.

Clarke ran her hands up and down Bellamy’s back as he continued to suck on her warming skin before dipping down to trace his waistline.

“Is this okay?” Clarke asked, as her hands started to explore the broad expanse of his back, rucking up his sweater and the t-shirt underneath. He didn’t seem to have the hang ups she did, but since he was checking in, it only felt right to ask.

“Roam away.”

A loud peal of laughter broke from her lips, and Bellamy stopped what he was doing to jerk back from her.

“What? Did I do something?”

“No, just—“ Clarke tried to get a hold of her continuing giggles so she could explain, “You said ‘roam’ like how you say ‘Rome’ on the show.”

Bellamy frowned. “What does that mean? How do I say ‘Rome’?”

“You know, real serious. Like a teacher commanding attention. I didn’t realise it was also your bedroom voice, though it kind of makes sense.”

He was not convinced. “I do not say it like that—”

“You do! I’m surprised no one has told you this before.”

Rubbing a hand across his face, he admitted, “Well, now I’m self-conscious.”

“Don’t be,” Clarke said. “It’s hot.”

Bellamy smirked down at her. “Oh yeah? Well, if you want, I could put an episode on,” he joked, gesturing to the TV behind them. “Really get you going.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Clarke laughed, pulling on his sweater even as she recognised that might actually work, “and get back down here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, in the same exhilarating tone. And then he proved it wasn’t just his voice that could get her going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter :) The moodboard for this fic is [here on my tumblr](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/187034436148/if-the-right-one-came-along-a-bellarke-library).  
Next update will be up in two weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say thank you so much to anyone who nominated/voted for this fic (& my recent short fic [Intimacy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19803853)) in the Bellarke Fanwork Awards on tumblr! I was so flattered and shocked to see both them not just nominated but go through Round 1 so really thank you! :D It's been a very long week and I was thinking I might have to let the update slide to tomorrow but that helped motivate me to finish the edits and stick to updating tonight. I'm not definite on the next update, but I'm hoping it will be 2 weeks again. 
> 
> Added another Bellarke Bingo prompt in this chapter: cuddling. And this won't be the only chapter with it ;)
> 
> Next song for the playlist is [Stray Italian Grayhound](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLySk3i4dFI) by Vienna Teng.

Clarke smiled politely as another family greeted her on their way in to the library on Saturday morning. There were still another fifteen minutes before Storytime officially started, but people were beginning to arrive and she had everything waiting and ready.

There were butterflies in her stomach, excitement rather than nerves. As much as she enjoyed the various events the library ran, Clarke knew it wasn’t anything to do with work.

Yes, she was excited to see Harper and Jordan and to catch up with her friend, but she was most eager to see Bellamy later that night.

Clarke hadn’t seen him since Friday morning, having slept over after their make out session. He’d offered either the guest bed or his for the night, but sharing his bed had sounded perfect after their indulgent kisses and the intimacy. As they’d settled in to sleep, a drowsy Clarke had been so content next to him, even if she hadn’t been ready to take the evening further. However, when Clarke woke up in the middle of the night, sweaty and uncomfortable, she realised she might have gotten a little too used to having a bed to herself.

Although they’d fallen asleep with a few inches between them, at some point in the night Bellamy had turned and ended up cuddling her right side. The warmth that had been pleasant and comforting while they’d been kissing started to feel like too much combined with the weight of the duvet. She had to kick it off partway, but couldn’t remove it entirely; Bellamy had an arm around her waist and his head tucked into the crook of her neck. His breathing had tickled her skin and sweat had started to pool under her breasts. At home she would have wriggled her clothes off, but she didn’t want to wake him.

Eventually, she’d managed to tune into the steady rhythm of his breathing and drift off again, but the effort required just to fall asleep had distracted Clarke from the fact that she hadn’t remembered to reset her alarm.

Instead, she woke in an empty bed on Friday morning to her usual alarm, which didn’t account for the additional time she would need to drive back from Polis. She felt bad having to rush out, especially when she found Bellamy in the kitchen, having returned from a morning run, drinking coffee and offering to make her breakfast.

The worst part was that she’d barely had two minutes to appreciate the sight of him in nothing but a pair of shorts and glasses.

Hopefully, she’d get to re-witness that image tomorrow morning or maybe even tonight if she was lucky. He’d suggested she come over tonight for takeout when they’d texted to make arrangements, and Clarke had a good feeling that the night would lead to more than last time.

The burst of insecurity when Bellamy had touched her skin was unexpected, but after their make out session, she was pretty sure it wouldn’t be coming back. She’d gotten herself off last night thinking about the way he’d kissed her, the evidence of his arousal noticeable even through both their jeans, the tight set of his face when he’d finally rolled off her and breathlessly said he needed to stop. Though Clarke had only touched his warm, strong back that evening, she’d been thinking of all the places she wanted to touch him since.

Honestly, she probably shouldn’t let that train of thought carry her away just before she had to entertain children.

She busied herself by tidying a display and welcoming some more guests, mentally running through her to-do list. As fun as Storytime usually was, covering for Frankie just meant she had to do her usual backroom work later. She would be glad when Frankie was back from holiday.

Clarke stopped her fiddling when her favourite attendees greeted her. “Hey!” she gave Harper a hug before waving to Jordan, who was peeking out of his sling. “Hi, Jordan!” She waved, beaming when he gave her a bright, toothless smile in greeting. Although Jordan had always been a relatively happy baby, not everyone got such an immediate smile. It pleased Clarke to be a lucky recipient.

“Love the cape,” Harper noted. Since Frankie had taken over Storytime, she usually dressed up in a theme of the week, so Clarke was doing the same in her absence. Superhero was an easy one, and Frankie did have a great, colourful cape.

“How’s your morning?” Clarke asked.

“Good. Monty managed to start work late, so we got to do breakfast together, which was nice,” Harper explained. “Could you do me a favour? Could you hold Jordan a minute so I can visit the ladies?”

“Of course.”

“Can you cuddle with Aunty Clarke while Mama goes to pee?” Harper asked her son in a pleasant tone as she unwrapped him from the sling. “Mama’s bladder has not been the same since you were born— Oh, is that funny?” Harper said as Jordan laughed at the face she was making. “Well, you can laugh with Aunty Clarke about it, can’t you? I’ll be back soon.” She left her bags at Clarke’s feet before scampering away.

Clarke smiled down at Jordan, hoping she didn’t look awkward to any of the visitors walking past. She interacted with plenty of babies at the library, but there was something about being in charge of one by herself that she struggled with. Harper and Monty made it look so easy, but Clarke felt inept at keeping him entertained. Even though she was only ever alone with Jordan briefly, he had such an intense, expectant stare that Clarke always felt like he was waiting for more from her. “And how has your morning been, Jordan?” Clarke asked, adjusting her hold on him.

He responded by plonking a hand down on the side of her face, more firm than was comfortable. He was all about exploring, though. 

Gently moving his hand aside before he could get to her hair, Clarke observed, “Wow, look at your tiny fingernails. Do you like my cape?” she added to distract him from clawing at her face as he had tried during her last visit. She twisted so the cape swished, and once he noticed, he started to smile again, his chubby hand reaching out to grab the cloth.

“Here, you can touch it,” she said, lifting one end up within his reach. “Just no pulling, okay?” Clarke instructed. He gurgled his understanding.

She spun so that he could see the bottom of the cape swishing. “Do you like that?” she asked, mirroring his gummy grin. She spun again, more extravagantly this time, stopping abruptly when she noticed the latest entrant to the library.

“Bellamy!”

“Hey,” he grinned, walking over to them. “Hi there,” he added to Jordan who curiously stared at him.

At Bellamy’s greeting, Jordan quickly twisted his head and hid in Clarke’s neck.

“Oh, it’s okay, Jordan. This is my friend Bellamy,” Clarke soothed, rubbing a hand down his back.

Jordan peeked out, but then immediately hid again, making Bellamy chuckle.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning,” Clarke noted to Bellamy, hoping she didn’t sound too surprised as she lightly bounced Jordan.

“I was in the area, and I remembered this was on. I thought I’d join you. I hope that’s okay.”

Clarke was too busy steadying Jordan to reply; the boy had caught sight of Harper returning and tried to wriggle out of Clarke’s arms towards her.

“Mommy’s coming,” Clarke soothed, bouncing him again.

“Hey, I’m here,” Harper said, beaming as she took Jordan back. “Did you miss me? Thanks,” she added to Clarke, before directing her gaze to Bellamy. Her sly expression told Clarke that she recognised him instantly.

“Bellamy, this is my friend Harper McIntyre. Harper, this is Bellamy Blake.”

Her hands were busy getting a toy out of her bag for Jordan to play with, but she directed a wide smile towards Bellamy. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Clarke’s talked a lot about you and Jordan.”

Harper cast her a glance that told Clarke she would have to explain just when that happened later, but she only said, “Same here. She didn’t mention how long you’re in town, though. Staying for a while?”

Clarke felt her cheeks heat up at Harper’s less than subtle inquiry, but Bellamy didn’t seem to think anything of the question.

“Just a few weeks.”

“And I suppose the library must be an… _attractive_ place to visit considering your history here?” Clarke was worried Harper was going to continue, but Jordan thankfully distracted her by dropping his toy.

“Yeah,” Bellamy said, “it’s nice to see the place again. Though,” he added, surveying the increasing crowd as the start time for the activity drew nearer, “I’m realising now that it probably looks weird for a thirty-five year old man to attend a kids’ Storytime by himself.”

Clarke made a sour face. “Yeah, optics on that are more than a little weird. But, if you like, you could be my helper today?” she suggested.

It was the role she sometimes took on for Frankie and something she thought would be easy enough for Bellamy to do. However, he looked uneasy at the prospect, which surprised Clarke. After all, he’d done it back when he worked here, and the sessions then had been on more of an ad hoc basis, with none of the preparation Clarke had undertaken for today.

“Or,” Harper offered, “you could join me and Jordan? What do you think Jordan, can Bellamy sit with us?”

Now safe in his mother’s arms, he was confident enough to give Bellamy a full appraisal. Since Jordan didn’t seem to have any protests, Bellamy agreed to Harper’s suggestion, and Clarke had to reluctantly leave them to start the session.

She doubted anything Harper said would scare Bellamy away —or that there was even anything to be scared away from—but there was something a little unsettling about him being with such a close friend when Clarke couldn’t monitor what they were saying and intervene if things veered toward the embarrassing.

She managed not to think about it too much as she got into the session, starting off with Supertato’s adventures before delving into those of better known superheroes with their animal companions. It was nice to look over occasionally and see them getting on, Jordan even letting Bellamy play with him too, but it sent a fleeting pang through her stomach.

Bellamy wasn’t going to be here for long—only a few weeks by his own admission. She didn’t need to see that he could get along with her friend and play nicely with said friend’s baby. Those were traits she might want in a significant other, but Bellamy was just her friend with benefits.

As she would no doubt be explaining to Harper at lunch.

After Storytime ended, Clarke started putting the books away. Clean up never took as long as getting things set up since some of the regulars always helped reset everything to their usual places. She spotted Bellamy joining in and debated whether to go over to him. She did want to chat, but a few people had clearly recognised him. The man he was chatting with seemed friendly enough as they put chairs away, though others kept their distance. When Clarke approached them, she realised the man was Reese’s dad, easier to recognise here than behind the driver’s seat of the bus.

They had just finished stacking chairs, so he said goodbye to her and Bellamy and went back to Reese, preoccupied with drawing a pile of books off the shelves.

“Hey. Harper asked me to let you know that she’s going to change Jordan and get some stuff from her car before coming back.”

Clarke nodded. “Thanks. Hopefully the session wasn’t too boring for you?”

“No, it was fun. Harper’s really nice and Jordan’s such a cute kid. And you were great, by the way,” Bellamy said. “Excellent cape action.”

“Why, thank you.” Clarke gave a little bow, flourishing the cape out to her side. He was smirking at her when she straightened. Clarke took the cape off, feeling suddenly shy.

“Seriously, though,” he said, quieter. No one was close enough to overhear, but there were still a fair few people in the building. “I bet you wouldn’t have imagined you’d ever lead a kids session back when you first worked here,” he added, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

Clarke fought off a laugh. She had definitely avoided doing any of the kids stuff back when they had worked together, but she had grown to enjoy most of it. She did do better with the older kids, though.

“No, I definitely didn’t.”

Poorly concealed, excited chatter broke out behind her, so Clarke turned her head to check on the commotion. Two moms and a dad Clarke didn’t know that well were staring their way, but looked sharply in the other direction at her attention.

“I think they might be fans of yours,” she said quietly.

He sighed. “Yeah, I should probably go. But I’ll see you tonight?”

Clarke nodded. They agreed to text about dinner choices before Bellamy made his goodbyes and left.

Clarke pretended she didn’t hear the chorus of disappointed sighs behind her.

The weather turned out pleasantly warm, perfect for an afternoon picnic. Once they got to the park and chose a suitably shady spot, Clarke laid down the blanket while Harper sorted out Jordan’s things. She’d run some errands and fed Jordan while waiting for Clarke’s lunch break, but he didn’t like to be left out when they were eating, so Harper had a few small snacks on hand as well as his usual toys.

“So,” Clarke asked, as she bit into her sandwich, “how’s your week been?”

Harper immediately shook her head. “Clarke, we only have so much time to catch up. We are not wasting it discussing baby groups. I need the goss!”

Clarke laughed but didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about. “Okay, okay.”

“_So_? What’s going on with you and Bellamy Blake?”

“We’ve been...talking?”

Harper frowned. “Well, of course you’re talking.”

“No, I mean, like, it’s a casual thing? I thought ‘talking’ was what people called it now.”

“Wait, so it’s actually a thing! And since when is _talking_ slang for anything?”

Clarke shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s what I overheard from the girls at the library.”

Harper shook her head. Her eyes were on Jordan as she fed him, her heightened sweet voice at odds with her words. “Jordan, I think your Aunty Clarke has been getting dating tips from thirteen-year-olds!”

“It wasn’t Madi and Charlotte. It was the girls at CoderDojo.”

Harper looked up, unimpressed. “So, sixteen-year-olds? That’s really not much better. You know if he asks you to Netflix and chill, he doesn’t want to watch a movie, right?” Harper added with a smirk, waggling her eyebrows.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I know what Netflix and chill means! And who else is going to fill me in on new dating trends when all my friends have been in relationships forever?”

Between Wells, Raven, and Harper and Monty, the people she was closest to hadn’t been single in years. The dating scene was totally different now—or so she kept hearing. Clarke had signed up to some dating apps for the first time a couple of years ago, but it hadn’t turned into actually going on dates.

“So, you’re dating?” Harper picked up on, her expression growing more eager.

“It’s not dating,” Clarke insisted. “It’s just casual. What?” Clarke demanded at Harper’s suspicious look.

“He’s here on holiday.”

“Yeah.”

“And he’s staying in Polis.”

“Yes.” _Where was Harper going with this?_

“So why, on a Saturday morning of his holiday, would he decide to wake up early enough to go to another town before shops even open and go to a kids’ Storytime?”

Clarke flushed at Harper’s insinuation. “You spent more time with him this morning than I did.”

“Jealous?” Harper smirked. 

“No,” she said quickly, her blush deepening. “I just mean you’re more likely to know.”

“Oh, he had an excuse,” Harper said slyly. “Something about exploring. There you go, Jordan,” she added, moving one of his blocks closer to him now that he had grown more interested in the toys than the food. He couldn’t do much with them, but he seemed to like the different colours.

_Of course she asked him_, Clarke thought with embarrassment. “And you don’t believe him?”

Harper smiled innocently. “I’m just wondering why _you_ think he came.”

Clarke laughed, a little awkward. “He’s interested in the library and seeing the town again and stuff. And he’s an early riser.”

Excitement grew in Harper’s wide eyes. “Is he now?”

_Oh shit. _She hadn’t planned to keep that fact from Harper, but the conversation was getting away from her. “I, uh, slept over the other night.”

Harper’s mouth dropped open. “I cannot believe you didn’t lead with that! I need details, Clarke! I have a _baby_! The loveliest baby in the whole world,” she added giving Jordan a squeeze and a series of smacking kisses along the side of his face, making him giggle. Then she mouthed over his head, “But he’s a real cockblock.”

Clarke coughed around her sandwich as she fought a laugh. “I thought you guys managed a whole day of alone time when your mom babysat?”

“We did, but mostly we were too exhausted to do much of anything.” Harper shrugged. “It’ll be fine—but until then, I need the details of your single lady escapades!”

“No escapades. We just made out.”

“Oooh! And it was good?” Harper grinned widely and Clarke couldn’t help but return it.

“It was really good. I had fun.”

“Cool! I’m glad. Do—“ Harper cut herself off when Jordan whined. “You okay, honey?”

He squirmed, his face scrunched up in a frown though he wasn’t yet crying.

“He’s in this phase where he likes to move around a lot,” Harper explained, adjusting him, “but he can’t quite do it all himself yet so he gets frustrated.”

“Here, why don’t I take him for a bit so you can eat?” Clarke offered. She’d already had two sandwiches while chatting, and Harper had yet to finish one.

“If you don’t mind?”

Harper had already lifted him up, so Clarke took over and set Jordan down by her side. “There we go, do you want to see your mom?”

“Did you want to see me Jordan?” Harper said with a wide smile that Jordan partially returned. “I’m here! Is that better, huh?” She passed him a block that he seemed happy to play with again, so she turned her attention back to Clarke. “So, when is your next non-date?”

“Tonight.”

“Hmm.” Harper smirked.

”What?”

“I mean it’s one thing for him to pop in if he’s not seeing you for a while, but when you already have plans for tonight…”

“Like he said, he was just in town.”

“Because he couldn’t wait to see you again! And why wouldn’t he feel that way? You’re awesome!” Harper exclaimed, making Clarke blush again.

“He’s only here for a few weeks.”

Harper waved a hand dismissively. “Time has nothing to do with feelings. Monty and I moved in together after two months.”

“Two months of exclusively dating and—“

“So you’re not exclusive?”

Clarke paused. “We are, but—it’s not the same.”

Harper shook her head, unconvinced. “Monty and I had known each other for so long beforehand, so we knew it was right. And you and Bellamy have known each other a long time—“

“We _knew_ each other. So much has changed since then.”

Harper must have noticed the emphasis because she softened. “I’m not trying to push you or anything, it’s just Bellamy seems great and you haven’t been interested in anyone in… “ Harper trailed off. She and Harper hadn’t even been friends when she’d last wanted to date someone seriously, which was weird to think about. “Well, I’m just excited for you.”

“I know. Look, Bellamy isn’t going to be here for long, so I’m really not expecting this to become anything. It’s nice to just have fun with him like we used to, you know? He… he was my best friend. And I missed spending time with him,” Clarke admitted in a quieter tone.

Harper’s eyes softened.

“I know it’s silly—”

“No, of course that’s not silly,” Harper said, reaching out to touch her arm. “I remember you saying you thought you’d never see him again after his mom moved away. I’m so glad that you have.”

They shared a smile, but when Harper turned back to her food, her expression grew wistful. Clarke didn’t have to ask to know Harper was thinking of her son’s namesake, Jasper Jordan.

She’d heard plenty of stories about Monty and Harper’s childhood best friend, but as he’d passed away while they were in college, Clarke had never met him. In less than a week, it would have been Jasper’s thirtieth birthday, and Harper, Monty and Jordan were going to visit with Jasper’s mom for a few days. That was why Monty hadn’t been able to join them today unlike last week; he was working to make up for one of the days he’d be off next week.

Clarke scooted around on the blanket to sit a little closer to Harper, doing her best not to disturb Jordan.

“You sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?” Clarke asked. She had wanted to keep discussing Bellamy, but making sure Harper was okay was far more important.

Harper sighed, but shook her head. “I’m okay. But thanks.”

Clarke studied her. She wasn’t about to force Harper to open up, but she didn’t want her friend to brush past things either. “Okay, but if you need to talk, I’m here. And not just today. You can always call me.”

Harper smiled then. “I know. Thank you.” She pulled Clarke into a hug, which she easily returned, squeezing her friend tight.

A gurgle drew their attention back to the blanket, where Jordan had dropped his block and was reaching a little arm towards them.

“Aww do you want a hug too, Jordan?” Harper said, withdrawing to settle Jordan into her lap and cuddle him. “You know you’re my favourite to hug, pickle.”

Clarke smiled as Jordan rubbed his face against his mom’s neck before squirming out of the hug and going for his blocks again.

“Oh, now you’re all hugged out, huh?” Harper said, fondly stroking the dark wisps starting to grow on Jordan’s head.

The conversation moved on as they finished eating, catching up on Harper’s week and touching on the plans to drive to Jasper’s moms tomorrow morning.

“How much longer do you have for your break?”

“About ten minutes,” Clarke confirmed after checking her watch. But the park was only a three-minute walk away from the library, so she wasn’t in a rush. “But if it’s important, I can be late; I’m in charge today.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I just have a few more questions about Bellamy. If I’m allowed, that is?”

Clarke smiled. “You’re allowed.”

“So tonight’s the second time you’re meeting up with him?”

“Uh.” Clarke cleared her throat awkwardly. “Third actually.”

“Griffin! How much are you keeping from me?”

Clarke laughed. “We had dinner on Wednesday and then went to the Polis food festival on Thursday,” she recapped. “And tonight, we’re getting take out at his place.”

Harper opened her mouth to respond before shutting it quickly. When she eventually spoke, Clarke had the feeling that she had changed her mind about what she was going to say. “Is Thursday when you stayed over at his place?”

“Yes.”

“And do you think you might stay over again tonight?”

“Yeah. Actually, I think we might…” Clarke’s face reddened. “You know.”

Harper studied her for a moment, clearly confused by Clarke’s reluctance to speak plainly when they’d talked about relationships in detail before. “Clarke, if you’re too shy to say it, then are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No, I’m not…” She let out a huff of frustration, since she technically had felt too nervous to do anything more than make out the other night. However, she definitely felt much more confident today. There was something else stopping her from talking about it. “It just feels weird to talk about sex,” she mouthed rather than spoke the last word, “in front of Jordan.”

Harper laughed. “Oh, Jordan doesn’t understand. Jordan,” she said, bending down and giving him a bounce, “Aunty Clarke is going to get _some—_”

“Harper!”

“—water!” Harper said. “A particularly tall drink of water. ‘Cause Aunty Clarke is _real_ thirsty,” she finished with a twinkle in her eye.

Clarke couldn’t help the snort that left her at that. The deep sound startled a giggle out of Jordan. Naturally, Clarke and Harper had to try to recreate it immediately, much to his delight.

* * *

Harper managed to keep the rest of her teasing to a minimum until Clarke had to return to work. She had plenty to do the rest of the day, so Clarke didn't have time to think or worry about the evening ahead. It was only as she walked home, half an hour later than she’d hoped to leave, that she got a chance to reply to Bellamy's text about dinner. Still, she managed to spend five minutes stressing over her outfit before reminding herself that if things were as casual as she’d insisted to Harper, then it shouldn’t matter what she wore. Besides, it would look silly if she dressed up to have takeout at his house. She settled on a striped tank top over jeans, casual but still drawing attention to her assets, and was back out the door.

Bellamy clearly appreciated her attire when he opened the door, his eyes dropping quickly before snapping back up as if remembering not to stare. He greeted her with an easy smile before relieving her of the bags containing their food.

“How was the rest of your day?”

“Fine,” Clarke replied. She dropped her overnight bag behind the couch and followed him into the kitchen. “Afternoon got a little busy, but lunch with Harper and Jordan was really nice. How about you?”

“Good. Got some work done. And some reading.”

Maybe it was Harper’s voice in her head that made her voice the thought, “Oh, I figured you had a day out after we saw you.”

“Oh, yeah. I went around Arcadia in the morning,” he said, busy unboxing the food. “But I said I’d give a couple of my former students feedback on some of their master’s work, and I wanted to finish one today.”

“Was that the work you meant? But you’re not getting paid for it.” He’d already got plates out, so she retrieved the cutlery.

“I don’t mind. Mmm, there they are,” Bellamy said, veering off-topic as he picked up a particular box and inhaled the scent. “I used to dream about Mrs. Shin’s spring rolls.”

Clarke laughed. “You must have tons of good takeout in LA.” She loved Mrs. Shin’s too, but sometimes she thought it would be nice to have more than three viable options for takeout.

“I do,” he agreed, “but they just weren’t the same.” He popped a spring roll into his mouth and groaned in bliss.

“Should I leave you and the rolls alone?”

“Not if you want to have any.”

Clarke reached over to take two for herself and dropped them onto her plate. Bellamy continued to eat rolls directly from the container as they plated the rest of their food.

“What’s in this one?” Bellamy asked, squinting into a container with half a spring roll coming out of his mouth.

“Oh.” Clarke had confirmed their order via text, but forgot that she hadn’t included this particular item since she was so used to it appearing in her order. “It’s mixed vegetables. It’s really good.”

His eyebrows rose curiously. “Why do you look embarrassed?”

She ducked her head, more embarrassed he’d noticed than anything. “It’s a funny story.” Clarke laughed before explaining, “A couple of years ago, when I was studying for finals, I basically lived on their delivery for a week. To the point that I would call, and they didn’t even need to ask for my order because I always got the same thing.”

He smirked. “Of course you did.”

“_Anyway_, one day Charlie showed up with my food, and I realised there was an extra box, so I tried to give it back to him. He told me his mom had added the greens to my order on purpose because she was worried I wasn’t eating properly.”

“Aww!” Bellamy grinned. “And you always thought Mrs. Shin didn’t like you!”

“She hardly ever spoke to me!” In retrospect, she recognised that was partly because she had gone into the restaurant in Bellamy’s presence back then. Even if Mrs. Shin had had the time to chat, it was Bellamy she favoured. All the older ladies in town had had a soft spot for him. “Still doesn’t much, though she asked about you today.”

“Really?” Bellamy looked surprised.

“I didn’t mention I was coming over or anything,” Clarke added quickly. “I just hadn’t been in for a while, so she came out front to say hi. When Charlie mentioned he’d heard you were around, Mrs. Shin said I should make sure you stop by while you’re here.” The assumption that Clarke could get the message to Bellamy had startled her so much that she hadn’t been able to do more than nod and smile.

He smiled softly. “Cool. So, I’ve been eating on the couch, but we could sit at the table if you like?” he said, gesturing to it. It was quite small, clearly all that could fit into the space, but two of them could sit cozily.

“I don’t mind.” Clarke shrugged. “I eat on the couch a lot anyway.”

“Okay, couch it is.” Leading them back to the living room, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Those finals— Is that when you completed your degree?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you finish it?” he asked, sitting down on one end of the couch.

“Weatherly. It’s about a two hour drive, but I didn’t have to go in every day, so it wasn’t too bad. It was harder getting myself back into the routine of doing homework after so many years without it.”

Bellamy nodded. “Yeah, I totally felt that when I started community college. What made you decide to go back?”

Clarke bit her lip. There had been a lot of factors. Jake had always encouraged her to at least enrol at the community college, not wanting her to give up her education for him. But the first year, caring for him had been so exhausting, physically and emotionally, that she hadn’t been able to even think about doing anything taxing in her free time. After that, the longer she went without going back, the harder the idea was to face. If not for one galvanising thought she might never have enrolled.

She had never told anyone—not even Harper, who had helped her with her application forms, or Monty, who had driven her all the way to Weatherly to submit them when her car was broken down—what that moment had been.

But there was one important reason she should tell Bellamy.

“You did.”

His brow wrinkled. “I did?”

“It was the year your book came out,” Clarke explained. “It reminded me of that first time we were working late together and actually got to know each other.”

“That was the first time I told you about my writing.”

Clarke nodded. Reading the press release had reminded her of that night. “You also told me how nervous you felt about enrolling in college, but you were really glad you did it. I know I was older than you when you did it, but I thought— It seemed like you would have told me it wasn’t too late to go back.” Bellamy stared wordlessly at her, his eyes an infinite dark pool, forcing Clarke to turn her gaze to her plate. Her blow-dried blonde waves fell down to hide the side of her face, protecting her from his intense gaze as she swirled noodles around her fork. “And actually, the smartest person in my program was this lady in her fifties who’d been a stay-at-home mom and decided to finally put herself through college. So yeah, I was probably overthinking it about being too old in my late twenties.”

Bellamy cleared his throat. “I’m glad I could be there somehow.”

_You always were_, she thought. _No_, she corrected herself sternly, _not _always.

It wasn’t like she had spent the last ten years constantly thinking about him. But Bellamy had been such a special person to her, of course she would think of him sometimes. When it was important.

But an admission like that, even in friendship, was the opposite of casual.

“How did you find college in LA after you transferred?” she asked, brightly moving the conversation along.

They started sharing stories of their differing college experiences. Clarke found Bellamy’s further adventures with his master’s and teaching interesting, giving her a different viewpoint on college. The conversation flowed easily between them; there was still plenty to catch up on, having been apart for so many years, and she enjoyed hearing his stories. At some point, their empty plates were abandoned on the coffee table, and they had unconsciously managed to inch closer to each other on the couch until they were almost touching.

All night, she hadn’t felt anxious about later, just a nice, comfortable confidence instead of awkwardness. Confidence that deflated when she went to the bathroom while Bellamy was in the kitchen and realised she had at least three chili flakes stuck between her teeth.

Her face reddened as she tried to remove them with her tongue. _Why hadn’t Bellamy said anything!_ Clarke managed to dislodge one, but ended up going out front to get her overnight bag and dental floss inside to get rid of the others. Since she had started, she flossed the rest of her teeth as well, just to be on the safe side. Leaving the bag in there to make it easier to change later, Clarke returned to the living room just as Bellamy was putting two green teas down on the coffee table.

“Thanks,” she said. She deliberately sat so her leg was pressed against his, hoping he would take the hint. Clarke smiled against the rim of her mug when Bellamy’s left arm stretched out to rest on the couch behind her. She leaned back and enjoyed the feel of his arm across her shoulders as they sipped their tea.

“Did I tell you how awesome you were this morning?”

Clarke flushed at the unexpected compliment. “You did. Thank you. Oh, but I wanted to apologise,” she remembered.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For putting you on the spot earlier about helping out. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but I guess it probably would have felt like work.”

“No, it’s fine. When you asked, I was just a bit nervous.”

Now it was Clarke’s turn to look confused. “How come? You’ve done plenty of readings.”

“Of _my_ book. To adults. Kids are a way harder audience.”

“You used to do the kids events all the time. I had to channel you the first few times I helped out,” Clarke admitted, making Bellamy smile.

“It’s been a long time since then. But it did look really fun; maybe next time if you’re still doing it?”

“I am. Next Saturday is Frankie’s last week away. As long as you’re definitely up for it, that would be wonderful. You have a great voice.”

“Yeah?” he said lips curving into a smirk.

Clarke twisted in embarrassment. “For reading. And explaining things and stuff,” she said. “I think the kids would enjoy it.”

“Oh.” He leaned in closer, his voice deepening a few notches and sending a shiver down her spine. “So it’s just for the kids?” The hand that rested behind her on the couch started tracing a line down her bare arm, making her gulp.

“Not just for the kids,” she replied, her own voice dropping to match his as she fought to keep it steady. His face was so close she swore she could feel his eyelashes flutter against her skin. It was definitely time to say something sultry in response—or just kiss him.

So of course, Clarke sat up straighter and blurted out, “Have you ever thought about doing an audiobook?”

Okay, maybe she was still the teensiest bit nervous.

He blinked and withdrew, the loss of his warmth a disappointment. Still, he answered her easily, “Actually, Miller—my agent—he’s been looking into that.”

“Really?” Clarke asked with excitement.

“Yeah. My book wasn’t big enough before, but with _SPQR_ being so popular, they think there’ll be enough interest. The details still need sorting out, but they want me to record it.”

“Bellamy, that’s awesome!” And not just because she would definitely finish the book if Bellamy was reading it to her.

His smile was embarrassed but pleased as he ducked his head.

Clarke took another sip of her tea while Bellamy put his down on the table. She could feel his eyes on her for a long moment before he finally said, “You know, about tonight… If you just want to make out again, that’s fine with me. Or if you don’t even want to do anything, that’s cool,” he hastened to add. “I asked you to come over ‘cause I wanted to hang out, not for a hook up.”

“I know,” Clarke said, a warm smile blooming on her face. She had hoped anyway. “I wanted to hang out too,” she agreed, setting her mug down. She took a deep breath, before turning and tucking a leg under her to finish, “But I also want to hook up.”

“Yeah?” His darkened gaze dropped to her lips.

“Yeah,” Clarke said confidently. The butterflies were still there, but she could feel the difference to last time; the anticipation that had built.

He reached out to tuck her hair away from her face, and Clarke let out a sigh as his fingertip traced the curve of her ear. He leaned in, but hovered a breath away, waiting for Clarke to close the distance.

The kiss started off gentle and soft, like a friendly hello. Nice as it was, Clarke was here for a lot more than that. She ran her hands up his arms and into his hair, gently raking his scalp to make him groan before turning her kiss more forceful. She straddled him and Bellamy quickly wrapped his arms around her waist. She enjoyed the feel of his body against hers in the new position, pressing herself against him.

Although the kiss grew in intensity, something wasn’t quite flowing, and it took Clarke a second to realise she wasn’t the one holding back. Although she was happily exploring, Bellamy’s hands remained locked in place.

“You can touch me, Bellamy,” she instructed in between kisses.

“Okay.” But his voice sounded restrained, and not in a good way.

She broke the kiss to lean back and study his face more closely. There was some tension in his forehead that hadn’t been there before.

“You know, if there’s anything _you_ don’t want to do, that’s okay too, right?” she said, gentle but serious.

He blew out a harsh breath before shaking his head. “Yeah—that’s not the—” He paused and met her eyes before stating plainly, “I want you.” Her current position meant there was no way he missed her thighs clenching at that rough statement, but he didn’t acknowledge it, instead barrelling on to admit, “I just feel— Pressure.”

Clarke frowned, her hands moving from his hair to rest on his shoulders. “Pressure?”

“Yeah.” Bellamy ducked his head. “This is your first time in six years. I don’t want to do something wrong and put you off sex for life or something.”

Clarke let out a ringing peal of laughter. “Bellamy! I was never _off_ sex, I just—“ She shrugged. “I didn’t have anyone I wanted to have sex with. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t had an orgasm in six years. What?” she added when he stared blankly at her. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who think women don’t masturbate.”

He rushed to shake his head. “I would never think that. I had just never thought about _you_ doing it.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a great mental image.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Well, if you want to just sit here and _think_ about me naked instead of actually—“

Clarke was cut off by her own inelegant squeal as Bellamy took that as his cue to stand with Clarke still in his lap. She clutched onto him tightly, her ankles crossing behind his back and her hands securing a hold around his neck, though it was rather unnecessary. He had a pretty solid grip on her waist. He’d been in good shape when they’d been co-workers, but _damn_, he’d definitely worked out the last twelve years.

“On that note,” he said in a gravelly voice, “I think we should go to the bedroom.”

“Sure,” Clarke whispered breathlessly, leaning in to kiss him.

He kept up the kiss as he took a few steps before stopping abruptly.

“Um, actually,” he started awkwardly.

“What is it?”

“I thought that would be hot, but I don’t actually know the layout of this place that well yet,” he admitted, sheepish.

“Ah.” The move had been exciting, but it would be unfortunate if they ended up falling over. “I can just walk,” she offered.

“No, that’s okay,” he said, tightening his hold on her. “But no kissing. I don’t want to knock your head into anything.”

“Safety first,” Clarke agreed. She let her head fall into the crook of his neck as he walked them the short distance to the bedroom. Despite the kissing ban, she still enjoyed snuggling against Bellamy and breathing in his warm, woodsy scent.

Once he had safely deposited her back on her feet, they wasted no time in helping each other remove their clothes, stripping down to their underwear. She shivered in anticipation.

When they lay on the bed, Bellamy warmed her up quickly with both his kisses and the body heat that radiated off him in waves. However, his hands did little more than trace lines on her arms and the band of her bra. An increasingly frustrated Clarke had to nudge him to lie by her side so she could remove the offending item herself.

Dropping it onto the floor, she reached for Bellamy, but he stayed motionless, staring transfixed at her breasts.

“Bellamy?” she prompted. She took it as a compliment, but it was almost amusing seeing him so affected.

“Yeah,” he said, voice rough in a way that made her whole body tighten. He inched closer, his hand settling on her belly. A part of her kept expecting the nerves she’d felt the other night to come creeping back in, but under his heated gaze, all she felt was want.

“Aren’t you going to touch me?”

“I am touching you.” He pressed the heat of his palm into her stomach gently for emphasis. Clarke had made peace with the fact that it would never be flat a long time ago, but his hand looked so massive splayed over her belly that for the first time since she started caring about her appearance, she actually felt like it was small.

“You know what I mean,” Clarke said, wriggling in anticipation.

Bellamy bit his lip. “Could you show me?”

Clarke raised a brow. “Don’t tell me you need a demonstration.”

Bellamy smirked at her before his gaze drifted back down the length of her body. “It’s just— After you said— I can’t stop thinking about you touching yourself. I want to see what you like.”

Clarke’s breath caught in her throat, her thighs clenching. It shouldn’t have felt so daring, but this wasn’t something Clarke had ever done with a partner. It sounded really hot, so as impatient as she was for his hands, she acquiesced.

She brought her hands up to cup her breasts. “Like this?” she asked as she started massaging them.

His eyes were locked on the movement, his voice strained as he tried to play it casual. “Just whatever you normally do.”

Normally, she would take her time, sometimes use one of her toys. But normally, she didn’t have Bellamy’s gaze searing her skin. She could feel herself getting wet already.

“Okay,” she said innocently. As if she couldn’t feel him getting hard against her thigh.

She purposely took even longer than usual, drawing circles around her areolas but avoiding her nipples. She would have gotten too impatient by now to keep it up if she was just teasing herself, but teasing Bellamy made it far more fun. When she finally took a nipple between her thumb and finger and pinched, she tilted her head back and sighed exaggeratedly. Clarke bit down a smug smile at Bellamy’s responding groan.

“Aren’t you going to take these off?” he asked, voice tight, flicking a finger along the waistband of her underwear.

She had spent longer debating this part of her wardrobe than the rest of her clothes tonight. All she owned were cotton panties in sensible styles, either in solid colours or fun prints. The one pair that was remotely sexy had been wasted on Thursday night, and he hadn’t even seen them. She had settled for plain navy blue.

“No,” Clarke said. She could feel that she had soaked the fabric, but she’d keep them on longer just for the frustration in Bellamy’s gaze. “You said to do what I normally do.”

“So?”

She trailed one hand down, skimming over Bellamy’s splayed hand on her stomach. “I don't always remove them when I don't have an audience.” Clarke slipped her left hand under the waistband and cupped herself.

He turned and groaned into her neck. “Fuck, Clarke, you’re killing me”

Clarke simultaneously felt sexy and giggly, a sensation that was new and exciting.

“I thought you would appreciate the authenticity,” she said. “You know, being a historian and all.”

Bellamy let out a dark sound, somewhere between a groan and a laugh, muted by her skin. Clarke couldn’t help but giggle, though there was nothing funny about the erection straining underneath his boxer briefs against her thigh.

“But if you’ve had enough research,” she began, trying to sound sultry, “you’re welcome to take over.”

He captured her lips in a hot kiss, squeezing her thigh before sliding her underwear to the side. She gasped against his lips as he touched her, her hand first grasping onto his wrist before sinking into his hair. It wasn’t long before she came on his fingers, a pleasant wave washing over her, but it was over too quickly. She let out a whine against his mouth without realising, causing Bellamy to chuckle.

“You need more, huh?”

Clarke nodded. “Yes. Please.”

His mouth quirked upwards at her soft addition and he closed the short distance to nip at her bottom lip. “I’ve got you,” Bellamy assured, his voice rough.

He wasted no time in stripping off Clarke’s underwear and making good on that promise, his hands and mouth building her back up until she was begging him to let her come. When he finally did, her second orgasm carried with it the relief she expected to feel after the first, but Bellamy still wasn’t done.

Clarke became so lost to the feel of Bellamy against her, insider her, that any lingering nerves melted away. She had no capacity to feel self-conscious after four orgasms, the last one a nice little surprise elicited when Bellamy came inside her.

Afterwards, it felt like they lay next to each other, recovering with long, deep breaths for an age, but it was probably only a few minutes before Bellamy got up to dispose of the condom and clean up. When he returned, Clarke made herself sit up immediately. She knew she would want to languish next to him once he had lain down again, so she got up before she was tempted.

She didn’t expect him to reroute his course to the other side of the bed so that he was standing in front of her, blocking her way.

“Hey.” He grinned, eyes skimming up and down her naked body lecherously.

“Hi.”

“If you can get up that easily, I’ve done something wrong,” he commented, making Clarke laugh.

She was a little sore, but for now, the high was outweighing anything else. “Plenty of time to get there later,” she replied with a smirk.

“Good to know.” He smirked back, leaning down to nip at her upper lip. When he tried to turn it into a full blown kiss, Clarke put her hands on his firm biceps and pulled herself back.

“_Later_,” she stressed with mock sternness.

“Don’t go far,” he said, a hand squeezing the outside of her thigh before he let her go and flopped back on the bed.

Once she’d used the toilet and washed her hands, Clarke studied her face in the mirror while she brushed her teeth. Only some of her mascara was still holding onto her eyelashes, the rest starting to smudge around her eyes. She washed her face and put on some moisturizer as well as a long t-shirt she’d brought with her. Her hair was pretty wild, but it was only going to get worse after sleep, so she left it and returned to the bedroom.

Bellamy was already under the covers, his eyes hooded, but he smiled at her when she walked in. After she joined him, he curled up next to Clarke, wrapping an arm around her.

“So, you’re a cuddler, huh?” She’d suspected as much after Thursday night, but there was a difference between doing it consciously and in his sleep.

“Guilty. Is this okay?” he whispered into her ear.

In all honesty, it was a little strange. She and Niylah hadn’t stayed over every night during their arrangement. When they had, they’d shared the bed in the same way she shared beds with Raven or Wells when she’d visited them; that is, by staying on their own sides.

Clarke couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to bed cuddling. She could feel Bellamy’s body all the way down to her feet, and he clearly ran hot. Normally, if she was this warm when trying to sleep, she’d lose either her pyjamas or the sheets. Bellamy’s breath already felt heavy on her neck and there was a good chance she was going to wake up sweating again in the middle of the night.

But all she said was, “Yeah. This is nice.”

The next morning as Clarke got dressed—after an expectedly broken night’s sleep—she wondered how long it would take for things to get awkward. Everything had gone pretty smoothly so far, even her bursts of nervousness. Surely it was going to start getting awkward soon. They were blurring the lines between friends reconnecting and two people casually hooking up. At some point, it was going to get weird.

She didn’t have any plans that Sunday, though, and was happy to spend more time with Bellamy. If he had looked like he wanted her to leave, she’d have been out of there. But not long after she woke up, he returned from the bathroom and greeted her wearing only a towel, his glasses, and a wide grin. He even offered to make her breakfast. She wouldn’t have said no to that offer in any case, but she definitely couldn’t say no to a freshly-showered Bellamy, still damp and with his curls matted to his forehead. She joined him in the kitchen after a quick shower of her own, dressed in a figure-hugging white t-shirt and her jeans. They discussed her week ahead as they ate the eggs, salmon and toast he’d prepared.

“Do you need to get back to Arcadia?” he asked after she’d helped him clean up. He was stood next to the coffee pot with their empty mugs.

Clarke had been lingering at the entrance to the kitchen, unsure where to go from here and shook her head at the opening. “No, I didn’t have any real plans today.” Maybe she’d get back to the painting she originally thought she’d do on Thursday. But she wasn’t in any rush to leave.

“Do you want to hang out a bit longer?”

She smiled widely. “Sure. What were you going to do?”

“Err…” he paused. A dark flush crept onto his cheeks as he pushed his glasses further back on his nose. “I— I was going to do a puzzle,” he admitted.

“Like a crossword?” Clarke asked, amused though that did seem to fit.

“No.” He moved into the living room and went to the shelf at the back. Clarke hadn’t paid much attention to its contents since she knew it was likely a random selection Vera stocked to accommodate a variety of guests. Bellamy picked up a box off the lower shelf and held it up for her to see; she couldn’t make out the details of the picture from the other side of the room, but the bold writing at the top declared it to be a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle.

“I didn’t know you liked jigsaws.”

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly mention it.”

“But we were best friends.” Clarke pouted.

An amused smile appeared on Bellamy’s face. “Wait, are you upset?”

She was a little but tried to play it off with a shrug. “I thought you said you could tell me anything.”

“Big stuff, sure,” he said easily. “But I was twenty-two. I wasn’t about to tell my cool co-worker that I liked doing jigsaw puzzles. Not because of you, but because of me.”

“So, what you’re saying is,” Clarke mused, walking further into the room, “you’re secure enough in your manliness now to admit to liking jigsaw puzzles?”

He chuckled. “I am officially a famous nerd. Why hide it? But we can do something else,” he offered, bending to return the box to the shelf.

“No, I— I haven’t done one in a while. It’ll be fun.”

“You sure? I was just going to do it on the floor since the table isn’t big enough.” He gestured to the space in front of him.

“Sounds good.”

“Okay, cool.” Bellamy shot her a pleased smile before setting the box down on the floor.

Clarke refilled their coffee mugs and brought them with her to join him. She settled down cross-legged against the wall while Bellamy lay on his side in front of the coffee table, propped up on his elbow. While he emptied the 1000 pieces onto the floor, she spared a glance at the front cover of the box for the picture before starting to turn over all the pieces that had come out upside down. 

She hadn’t been lying when she said it had been a while—the last time she had done a jigsaw was probably when her dad was still alive—but her preferred method of laying out the pieces correctly first came naturally. Her father had always followed suit, but Bellamy clearly had a different approach.

“You’ve already started putting it together?” she said, unable to stop the hint of incredulity creeping into her voice.

“What?” he asked, looking up after sliding the corner pieces he’d slotted together into an L shape away from him and running his hand through the unsorted pile. “Don’t you go for the corners first?”

“Well, yes,” Clarke said primly. “But I like to arrange it all before I start.”

Bellamy smirked at her. “‘Course you do.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Bellamy returned to sifting through the large pile and came away with another corner and a few border pieces.

Clarke uncrossed a leg to poke his knee, making him look up in amusement. “Don’t make fun of my puzzle technique.”

He was still smirking while he apologised. “I’m sorry. I suppose I should thank you for bringing order to my puzzling.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and poked him once more before drawing her foot back. “Just don’t finish the border before I get started.”

He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

She returned to flipping pieces over when Bellamy suddenly slid another upside-down piece into her field of vision.

“Here,” he said. “You want to turn this one over?”

It was a corner piece.

Clarke pursed her lips. “Are you going to laugh at me if I do?”

His eyes crinkled as his smile grew, but he shook his head. “No.”

Clarke gave in to the urge to flip it, arranging it neatly by the other pieces of the border he’d found but had yet to attach to anything.

Bellamy grinned. “Learning more about you all the time, Griffin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you thought :)  
[The fic moodboard is here. ](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/187034436148/if-the-right-one-came-along-a-bellarke-library)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your lovely comments on the last chapter :)  
This chapter has another prompt from my Bellarke Bingo - this time it's 'rainstorm'.
> 
> The next chapter is with my beta, but I've got a few busy weeks ahead so I'm not sure if I'll finish editing in time to stick to 2 weekly update - if it does slip to the following week, I'll do my best to get it up earlier in the week than Thursday. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the update!

Clarke exited the back office of the library with a small stack of books in her arms, the pile teetering precariously. But Clarke was practised in this sort of thing and barely noticed the grimace on Fox’s face when she passed her at the checkout desk, focused on balancing the items she had to drop off while not crushing the two printouts she was going to pin up. After putting the reservations on the shelf, she took the longer way around to the noticeboard to avoid getting dragged into conversation with Sheila and only noticed the two girls hovering in front of the poster for Bellamy’s talk next week when she was a few steps away.

“Hi, Clarke,” Charlotte greeted her as she came to stand next to them.

“Hi, Madi. Charlotte. Finished all your comics already?” she asked, removing a few posted printouts advertising activities that had passed to make space for the new ones.

She paused expectantly when Madi said, “Not yet. We just came ‘cause we have to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

Before Madi could elaborate, Charlotte had whirled on her. “Mads! You can’t just say that!”

Madi’s brow furrowed. “Why not? It’s Clarke. I’m not going to lie to her.”

“Not lie, but— We can’t just _ask_.”

Clarke looked on in amusement as Charlotte stared at the floor with red cheeks. Madi seemed nonchalant.

“What is it?”

The two girls stared each other down for a moment before Charlotte turned to Clarke. Her hands fiddled with the straps of her backpack and her voice was small as she asked, “Clarke, is it really true that Bellamy Blake came to see you here at the library on Saturday?”

Clarke did her best not to react. “Where did you hear that?”

“Leilani said,” Madi revealed.

Recalling that was the same classmate who had told them about Bellamy’s return in the first place, a wry smile grew on Clarke’s lips. “Leilani sure knows all the gossip, huh?”

“Her big sister’s best friend’s step-mom made her join them and the baby for Storytime,” Charlotte explained.

It took Clarke a second to parse that connection. Once she had, she thought back on the morning and remembered seeing a surly teenager sulking next to one of the newer families.

“I see.”

“So it’s true?” Madi asked.

“I already told you Bellamy and I were friends,” Clarke replied evenly.

“But we didn’t know you were _still_ friends,” Madi said with a frown “We could have heard it first!”

“Is he your boyfriend now, Clarke?” Charlotte asked eagerly.

“No, girls, he’s not my boyfriend.”

It was true, so why did her cheeks heat up so much as she said it? She was just worried they would put this together with their encounter at the superstore, that was all. She did not need two thirteen-year-old girls giggling over her buying a new lipstick before going out to dinner with Bellamy.

Unfortunately, they still noticed that something was off. “Do you like him?” Madi asked suspiciously, shortly followed by Charlotte’s inquiry, “Do you like how he smells?”

The question surprised a sharp laugh out of Clarke. “Do I _what_?”

“Jenny says that liking how someone smells is a sign that you _like_ like them.”

“Why are you listening to Jenny again?” Madi demanded, shaking her head. “She thought Becky was the one behind all the erasers going missing, even though it was so obvious it was Lyle!”

“But this time she’s right! Remember last month? Jiya said that she thought Kai smelled like peaches? And then a week later they were holding hands at lunch—in front of Miss Miriam!” Charlotte finished in a tone of awe. She looked to Clarke, adding as an aside, “Peaches are Jiya’s favourite fruit.”

Clarke bit her cheek to prevent another laugh. Miss Miriam had been formidable back when she attended Arcadia Middle School; the reverence wasn’t unfounded.

“Bellamy isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just my friend. And I don’t think your mom and dad would want you to spend so much time gossiping.” She turned back to the board to finish adjusting the sign.

“Okay, but we haven’t asked our question yet!”

“And what is your question?”

“Well, um—“ Charlotte turned to Madi here, a nervous look on her face. Her friend took up the thread.

“Do you think Bellamy Blake would come to our school one day? To our history class?”

“Oh.” Aside from his talk, which had been arranged for next Tuesday, Clarke couldn’t recall Bellamy mentioning any other public appearances while he was here. On Sunday, he’d said that he’d be seeing two of his former professors from the community college last night, but that was for a catch up dinner, not a visit to campus.

“I don’t know,” she said, not wanting to get the girls’ hopes up. “He’s only going to be in the area a couple of weeks, so he might not have time to fit it in.” It was the gentlest way to present it to the girls if Bellamy didn’t want to do it.

“I told you,” Madi said to a downcast Charlotte.

“But could you ask him?”

Clarke bit her lip. There was no harm in asking, right? She didn’t really want to ask Bellamy for a favour—especially not one that would require him to work—but she couldn’t refuse Madi and Charlotte. She would ask, and he’d say he didn’t have time before he had to go back to LA, and that would be that.

Well, time might not be the issue, Clarke thought. He’d had plenty of it to spend lazing about with her on Sunday. That was different from working, though. That was just hanging out with a friend.

“Please, Clarke?” Madi asked, prompting her to respond.

“Okay.”

Clarke figured she could get it over with and ask him that evening since they already had plans. They were meeting in Polis again, but with a slightly different itinerary than Thursday; she would park at his house, and they’d take the scenic route walking to the town square so Bellamy could show her some of his favourite places. For all it was a stone’s throw from Arcadia, Clarke had never really ventured further than the central square for the food festival or to a few restaurants and bars. She was looking forward to being shown some of the places Bellamy used to tell her about.

However, as they set off on their walk, Bellamy relayed that his dinner the previous night hadn’t matched up with his expectations. It turned out a few other faculty members had decided to join the two professors he’d made plans with, and many of them had spent the dinner trying to wring requests or favours out of him. His frustration was evident.

It felt like the wrong time to ask for a favour. She would ask later. They had all night.

Once he’d caught her up on the dinner and his progress with his reading pile, it was Clarke’s turn to catch him up on what she’d done since seeing him last.

She’d ended up driving home quite late on Sunday—and to be honest, if she’d had a second change of clothes with her, she might have slept over again—so Monday night had been spent catching up with meal prep and laundry. There had also been a phone call with her mother, but Abby, having heard about Bellamy’s visit, reminded Clarke what a success “that boy” had made of himself while she had meaninglessly languished in Arcadia.

Okay, her mom hadn’t actually used the word “meaningless”, but it had been implied.

Not wanting to get into that, Clarke told him about work. Pike had been keeping himself busy the past few days promoting Bellamy’s talk, until that morning. His daughter Skye had called to announce she would be visiting for the weekend. Naturally, preparations for that immediately took precedence. Skye was almost five months pregnant, and, although she had only met her a handful of times over the years, Clarke had a feeling this visit was more to curb her father’s constant calls to ensure she was in good health than anything else. Pike’s early departure meant she had more to do, especially since he didn’t work on Wednesdays either, but Fox was in, which had been a great help.

“Fox has only been with us for about a year, but she’s really good. She picks up stuff really quickly, and she always wants to do more,” Clarke said.

“Not lazy then?” Bellamy glanced at her with a knowing smirk. “Like someone else you used to work with…”

Clarke laughed through her embarrassment. She couldn’t believe he still remembered her calling him that back in the early days. “All right, I was the worst!”

“Nah,” he said easily, draping his arm around her shoulders and squeezing. “To be honest, I…”

“What?” Clarke asked when he trailed off. She liked this new closeness as they continued their walk, but didn’t know if she should reciprocate. Wrapping her arm around his waist felt too couple-y, so she kept her arms where they were, adjusting her hold on her handbag awkwardly.

“That first time you found me reading in the back instead of working, I just wanted a break ‘cause I was having a bad day. But all the times after, I was pretending because it annoyed you,” he admitted.

“Oh my God, I knew it!” Clarke exclaimed, elbowing his ribs. She had accused him of such tricks once they became friends and she noticed his work habits improved, but he had never admitted to it. “You were always so conscientious when other people were around.”

“It was so easy to wind you up though,” he said, laughing. “It made work a lot of fun. You made work fun for a lot of reasons,” Bellamy added sincerely.

Clearly her pout hadn’t been as well hidden as she had thought. “Yeah?” she asked, hating the hope in her voice.

“Of course,” he said easily. “Who wouldn’t want to get paid to hang out with their best friend?”

Clarke smiled, but it felt tighter and uneasy. It was a very nice statement that Bellamy clearly meant in the best way. There had certainly been a point when Clarke had felt like that too. But it also served as a reminder that what, to Clarke, had become ‘hanging out with her crush’ had never progressed past friendship for Bellamy. He’d never had the same level of attachment to her that she had to him.

“Right,” Clarke said, hoping her voice hid her doubts. She should put off that line of thinking until his inevitable departure. “Um, so why were you having a bad day?” she asked. “That first time?”

“Oh. I can’t remember the details now. I think it was just stuff at home, fighting with O.”

Clarke frowned, recalling in detail how she’d loudly criticised his work ethic. “Sorry if I made your day worse.”

He shot her an easy smile. “It was thirteen years ago, Clarke.”

“I can still be sorry.”

“All is forgiven,” he replied. He surprised her by brushing his lips against her temple.

She only had a moment to enjoy it before he stepped back, dropping his arm from around her shoulders and nodding ahead of them.

Clarke pulled her focus from Bellamy to realise they had reached the food festival.

He hadn’t bothered with a cap or sunglasses this time, joking that the only person who might get asked for an autograph was her. Clarke had rolled her eyes at the time, but as they joined the crowd, she had to avert her gaze a few times to avoid making eye contact with people she recognised.

Bellamy suggested Clarke pick their food since he had last time and she chose the same stand she went to with Harper and Monty last year; he seemed amused at her safe choice, but after sampling the food, had to agree with her decision. They ate at a more comfortably spaced (though less intimate) bench than their previous trip to the festival and then began a leisurely walk back to his place, taking a different path. This one had fewer landmarks— there really were only so many places of interest in a town the size of Polis—but it was a nice, leafy route that made for a pleasant walk.

At least it did until the rain started.

Bellamy had barely finished remarking that the forecast had been clear when the few, light droplets sprinkling down turned into a massive downpour.

They both let out a cry, mixed with shock and amusement. Clarke had an umbrella in her handbag, but there was no point in getting it out now she was already mostly wet.

“We can wait under there!”

Clarke followed Bellamy’s pointing finger to a building with overhanging eaves, and they raced to take cover.

“Where did that come from?” he said, trying to shake some of the water from his light jacket.

“I don’t know,” Clarke laughed.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

Clarke realised she was shivering. “A little,” she admitted, trying to shake out the water seeping into her clothes. The rain was coming down even heavier now, and the air had taken on a chill.

“Here,” he offered, moving closer and wrapping an arm around her.

Bellamy did run hot, which helped, but it was tempered by the fact that he was as soaked as she was. Still, Clarke pressed in close, wrapping her arms around his waist the way she hadn’t as they walked. She wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to snuggle, even if it was a bit damp.

“Well, this was actually the last place I was going to point out to you,” Bellamy said, nodding to the building behind them.

Clarke raised a brow. “You used to spend a lot of time at the bingo hall?”

“It used to be a cinema,” he explained. “It changed when I was eighteen.”

“Ah. But what about your old house?” Clarke wondered. “You never showed me that.”

“It’s on the other side of the square,” Bellamy explained. “I haven’t been back, actually.”

“Oh?”

“There’s a hill near there where I used to walk with O a lot. I’ll probably go there one day. But Vera was saying the people who bought the house have made a lot of changes—to the outside too. She said I wouldn’t recognise it. I thought it would be a bummer to see it now.”

Clarke nodded. She understood better than most, considering she still lived in her childhood home. While she wasn’t opposed to selling—and there had been times she wondered if she should get a new, smaller place—she would definitely be upset to see it turned into a completely different house. “That makes sense.”

He squeezed her in thanks. Clarke tucked her head into Bellamy’s neck as they stood quietly for a moment, watching a few cars carefully drive past.

“Do you want to get an Uber?” Bellamy suggested as the rain continued pelting down.

Clarke snorted.

“What? I can’t tell when the rain is going to stop.”

“It’s not that. It’s the fact that you think we get Ubers in dinky, little towns.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Okay, how about a cab?”

“We could try if you want. But we’re not that far away, are we?” Clarke pointed out. “It might not be enough fare for it to be worth it.”

“Yeah, it’s probably only about a five minute drive, if that,” Bellamy observed. His phone pinged with a notification, so he reached into his jeans pocket. “Sorry, I turned them on ‘cause I’m waiting to hear back from Miller. He’s flying out for my talk at the library, but I don’t know which day yet.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He wants to post some stuff on social media for it, and well, I’m terrible at that. And he’s taking some vacation days so he can hang out, either before or after.”

“So he’ll be here for a while?”

“Just a few days, but yeah. He’s going to stay in the spare bedroom, and I can show him around the place.”

Bellamy looked excited, and why wouldn’t he? It would be fun to show his best friend around his hometown. Clarke had to force a smile on her lips.

If his best friend was around, why would he need her to hang out with?

“That sounds nice,” she murmured.

He wiped the phone screen on a dry patch of his shirt before turning the screen on. When he stared at it contemplatively, Clarke prompted, “Did he get a flight?”

“It’s Gina actually, just confirming times.”

“Oh, really? You’ve made plans with her, then?” Clarke tamped down on the discomfort rising within her stomach when Bellamy nodded. Yes, she’d had quite a bit of Bellamy’s time, but she’d known that wouldn’t last. She wasn’t jealous. She had nothing to be jealous over when theirs was just a casual friends with benefits arrangement. And she couldn’t be jealous of his _time_.

But was she maybe a little envious? That Bellamy, who had been away for so long, seemed to have so many more options for people to hang out with than she, who had spent almost her whole life in the area, did? She wanted to spend as much time as she could with Bellamy, but the only plans she’d had to cancel to do that were ones she’d made with herself to paint.

“Yeah, I’m going to Gina’s for dinner on Friday.”

“Just the two of you?” Clarke couldn’t help but wonder.

“No. She and her boyfriend Naveed are hosting dinner for a few friends. Some of them went to college with me and Gina.”

“That’ll be nice.”

“Yeah, I hope so. Gina’s the only one I’ve seen recently, and that was over a year ago when she and Naveed came out to LA. Hey, you should come with me.”

Clarke blinked. “You want me to come to dinner at your ex-wife’s house?”

Bellamy chuckled. “When you say it like that, it sounds weird.”

“How else am I supposed to say it?”

“It’s just dinner at a friend’s house.”

“A friend you used to be married to.”

Bellamy blew out a breath that ruffled the hair falling in front of his eyes. “Honestly, it’s not like that with me and Gina. I mean—” He let out a breath as he tried to find the words. “We were happy together, but we were pretty hasty getting married. I guess coming from the kinds of families we did, we wanted to build our own family and got caught up in the moment. We’re better off as friends. And Naveed is a great guy, I’m happy for her.”

“But you still feel like you need back up?” Clarke mused.

“Not if I was just meeting up with them. But with the big group— I’d feel better if you were there.”

Clarke hid her blossoming smile in his chest. He might have plenty of old friends whom he hadn’t seen in years, but he still wanted her around. “Do you need me to hold your hand through dinner?” she joked to hide how pleased the request made her. 

Bellamy smiled. “Something like that.” When Clarke bit her lip in thought, he added, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. But Gina said I was welcome to bring someone. I think some of the others are too, so you won’t be the only one who doesn’t know everyone. Hell, I won’t know everyone.”

Clarke wasn’t convinced it was a good idea, but at the same time, she was curious. And if she said no, then that was a whole other day she wouldn’t get to see Bellamy. This way they’d at least get some private time on the drive there and back. “Okay. I’ll come with you.”

He beamed. “Great.”

Clarke glanced away from the force of his smile and noticed that the rain had eased off. It wasn’t dry yet, but the light drizzle might be the best they could hope for.

“Do you want to head back?”

“Yeah, why not. As long as you don’t mind that it’s not stopped,” he said, holding a hand out from under the shelter to check how heavy it was.

Clarke shrugged. “We’re already wet. Can’t get much worse in a few minutes.”

They’d just taken a few steps down the sidewalk when a car raced past, straight through a puddle and flinging not only water but an inordinate amount of mud on them both.

Bellamy and Clarke stared at each other in shock for a moment before doubling over with laughter.

Thankfully there were no more incidents the rest of the way to Bellamy’s house. The rain stayed at a light drizzle, but that was a bit of a shame now that mud caked their clothes—heavier rain would have at least washed it off.

They left their shoes off at the door, and hurried through the house, trying not to drip everywhere. Once they were in the bathroom, Clarke put her handbag to the side of the sink as Bellamy leaned over the bath-tub to start up the shower situated overhead. She was about to start peeling off her clothes when Bellamy emptied his pockets and stepped into the bath, still fully dressed.

“What are you doing?” she asked, amused.

“Well, I need to get the mud off,” he said as if it was obvious, stepping under the spray. Instead of a shower curtain a clear screen was fixed to the long end of the bath shielding the rest of the bathroom, while still giving Clarke a clear view.

“That’s what laundry is for,” Clarke pointed out.

“But this will get the worst of it off before it goes in the wash.” He twisted so that the water hit the few spots of mud that were still caked to his clothes. “Come on.” He grinned at her, pushing the panel open wider and holding out a dripping hand.

Clarke stared at him. Despite the water streaming down his face, his grin was still very effective. Yet, she felt the need to resist. “You’re ridiculous.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “But you want to anyway.”

Clarke’s lips pursed as she argued with herself. Bellamy stepped out of the water and shook his hair, looking at her as if to say, _What are you waiting for?_

And what was she waiting for? Clarke took the few steps to join Bellamy in the bathtub, giggling as she stepped under the warm spray and Bellamy closed the panel behind her. It was nice to feel the thick mud washing off at first, but after a few seconds, she had to close her eyes sharply. Some mud that must have been in her hair washed down the front of her face, irritating her right eye.

“You okay?”

She could feel Bellamy’s hand resting on her forehead, shielding her from the water.

“Yeah, I think some just got into my eye.” Clarke opened her left eye, which had closed on instinct, but the ongoing irritation stopped her from opening her right.

Of course she would try to do something fun like getting into a shower with Bellamy, and instead of turning it into shower sex, it became an accident zone.

“It’ll wash out,” she said, noticing the frown on Bellamy’s face.

He looked behind him at the towels stacked on a high rack, out of the way of any splashes, and the bathrobes that hung underneath. There wasn’t a screen along the back of the tub so he reached back and pulled out one of the robe ties and offered it to Clarke to use on her eye.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Clarke said, now able to blink it open. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He flung the tie on top of the towels before turning back to Clarke.

She wished she could see the mirror so she’d know if her eye had gone red. Bellamy wasn’t staring at her like it looked weird, though. He pushed some of the hair that had become matted to her forehead out of the way. His gaze was intense, growing more heated as his eyes moved downwards.

Clarke followed it, noticing that the pale blue t-shirt she was wearing had become see-through. Her bra was barely hiding anything either.

“I think we’ve got most of the mud off,” Clarke pointed out, voice hoarse.

“I believe you’re right. What shall we do next?” he asked, his grin growing dark.

She threw him what she hoped was a confident grin before grabbing the hem of her t-shirt. Removing it wasn’t as alluring a process as she’d been aiming for. The fabric clung to her skin and between the metal tray fixed to the wall on her right and the closed screen on her left, she didn’t have much room to manoeuvre. Bellamy didn’t seem to notice, transfixed by her newly revealed body.

He leaned down to kiss her, long and slow. Clarke stepped out of the spray so she could enjoy the kiss and the ambient sound of the water hitting the tub better. Bellamy curled a hand around her back, but when she tried to rest her hands on his chest, his shirt—stuck stubbornly to his body—was in the way.

“Maybe we should take the rest of our clothes off,” she suggested, already unhooking her bra.

“I’m not going to argue with that.”

Clarke laughed at the speed with which Bellamy stripped off his t-shirt, even as she fumbled with removing her jeans and underwear. “This is why you’re supposed to get undressed before you get in,” she said as she shimmied, trying to peel her jeans and panties off her hips without slipping.

Bellamy had unbuttoned his jeans, but moved to help her first. “Hey, we got rid of the mud. I’d say the plan worked.”

Once she’d stepped out of them and Bellamy had tossed them on the tiled floor of the bathroom, he stood to his full height. That made it easier for Clarke to admire the way his chest hair was matted to his skin. She wanted to touch him, run her hands over every inch. But she didn’t want to throw him off balance while he was taking off his jeans; she already knew that was tricky. They had to switch places so he could manage it, Bellamy leaning against the wall for better balance. Once he stood tall again, naked, with the shower spray trailing down his face, Clarke closed the distance and kissed him. She trailed her kisses to his neck and breathed him in. The scent she had thought was cologne was possibly just Bellamy.

“Did you just… smell me?” he asked, amused.

The question reminded her of Charlotte’s that afternoon, which made his recognition even more embarrassing. At least the high heat of the shower would disguise her blush. “Just checking you’d got all the dirt off.”

“I think that’s what soap is for.”

Clarke reached behind him and picked up the soap bar in the metal dish fixed near their heads. “May I?” she asked, holding the bar up to him. She’d never shared a shower with someone before, and although shower sex sounded like fun, she thought she’d need to work up to it. Anyway, they needed soaping up after that mud shower.

“Sure.” His voice was rougher, and she felt it right in her nipples, which were already stiff peaks.

Clarke rubbed the soap between her hands to start up the lather before trailing it across his shoulders. There was a loofah hanging from the soap dish, but she wanted to use her hands.

Even though she thought they’d have sex again when she stayed for the day on Sunday, they ended up just hanging out, doing the puzzle and cooking lunch and watching television. They had made out on the couch, but that hadn’t translated to more sex. Which she hadn’t minded particularly. It had been a nice, leisurely day, but she hadn’t been able to really explore Bellamy to her liking just yet.

She took care soaping up his torso, paying attention to the different angles and planes. His skin was taut and there was a spot on the side of his abdomen that was slightly ticklish that she hadn’t found the other night. When she rubbed soap around his nipples, he sucked in a tight breath. When she massaged his shoulders, he cocked his head back and sighed. Clarke wanted to sigh herself.

Once she was satisfied she’d gotten his arms and the front of his chest sufficiently soaped up, Clarke got Bellamy to step back into the spray and rinse the soap off. Then she got him to turn around and repeated the process on his back. He seemed more impatient this time around, looking over his shoulder a few times as they conversed. Still, he relaxed more as she massaged the soap into his shoulder blades. Her hands continued lower, slow and caressing, until she reached his butt. She hadn’t seen much of it naked on Saturday night, and that was a shame, because it was a very cute one.

She had only just cupped his butt when he said, gravel in his voice, “Clarke.”

“Yes?”

“I think that’s probably enough.”

She stopped, but couldn’t quite bring herself to let go. “But I’m not finished.”

“I can’t take much more,” he admitted, rough. He didn’t wait for her to respond before turning around.

Glancing down, Clarke couldn’t ignore the evidence of Bellamy’s predicament.

“I think it’s my turn now,” he said with hooded eyes, holding his hand out for the soap.

Clarke bit her lip, clutching the bar to her chest. “But I still need to do your legs,” she said, gazing at his erection. She grazed his hip bone with her right index finger, making Bellamy suck in a harsh breath. “Or I could just…” she began suggestively, sidling closer.

Clarke intended to stroke him, but before she could even take him in hand, her foot slipped. As she lurched forward her chin bumped into Bellamy’s collarbone. Her right hand slapped loudly onto his thigh, while her other elbow banged into the tile wall, her grip on the soap loosening until it clattered to the base of the tub.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Bellamy asked, now wide-eyed and worried.

“Yeah,” she said, embarrassed. She tried to twist her arm so she could look at her injury.

He took a step, clearly reaching for her bruised elbow, but his foot made contact with the soap. Balance lost, Bellamy flailed. He caught himself against the wall before he could slip too far or the back of his head knocked into anything, but his jaw dinged the metal soap holder.

The clanging was much worse than the one generated by her elbow and the wall.

“Shit!” Clarke exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said with a grimace. Clarke had a feeling that was going to bruise.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, though he was still wincing. “Yeah. But, uh, maybe we should just shower?”

“Yeah. If I’d slipped any later, I would have ended up grabbing your dick for support.”

Bellamy laughed. “I mean, I’m hard, but I don’t think we’re talking structurally sound.”

Clarke started giggling then, burying her head in Bellamy’s shoulder. “Oh my God, that’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Because it’s so terrible!” She tilted her head up to look at him as she made this assertion, but his eyes were still shining in amusement.

She was still laughing when he tried to kiss her, and only stopped after she nearly slipped again on the soap. They agreed not to fool around until they were safely out of the shower. Of course, Bellamy still insisted he return the favour and soap her up, and clearly couldn’t help himself from paying close attention to her breasts. They were too busy laughing for Clarke to get really worked up, though. As they got out of the shower, there was a pleasant hum of desire running through her skin. They availed themselves of the plush bathrobes and went to lie down next to each other on the bed.

“Well,” Clarke said, looking up at the ceiling, “I had never tried shower sex before, but I don’t think I’m going to rush to try it again.”

“I have once. It was fun,” he admitted with a laugh, and Clarke did not feel a sudden rush of jealousy at that statement. No, sir. No way. “But you definitely need a surface with some grip on it.”

“Is that what you’re going to write in your review for Vera’s house?”

Bellamy chuckled. He put on a serious tone as he said, “Perfectly serviceable shower, but not safe for sex.”

Clarke giggled, but she noticed how his mirth had him wincing in pain.

She twisted and propped herself up on her elbows so she could get a better look at him.

“What about your arm?” he asked, reaching over with a frown.

“It’s fine,” Clarke said honestly. It must have been the shock more than anything, since it didn’t twinge at her resting her weight on it now. She shuffled so one hand could rest on Bellamy’s chest where his robe had mercifully fallen open. “Does your jaw still hurt?” she asked, using a feather-light touch to trace a line over the darkening skin.

She expected him to deny it like he had in the shower, but this time Bellamy pouted. “Yeah.”

Gingerly, Clarke traced around the spot that was indeed starting to bruise. “Would you like me to kiss it better?”

He flushed but said, “Okay.”

After placing a chaste kiss to the bruise, she did the same thing to his chin dimple and then to the corner of his mouth. Bellamy’s lips pursed like he was expecting a kiss next, but she stopped and touched a finger to the mark above his lip. “How did you get this?”

“I fell down the stairs when I was… fifteen I think.”

She remembered the scar, but she’d never seen it quite so close before.

Bellamy’s eyelids fluttered shut as Clarke pressed a sweet kiss to the scar. As she lifted up, a small cluster of freckles under his eye called out to her, and she leaned in to kiss that too. He had such long eyelashes, and she could feel them brushing along her skin.

She sat up to adjust her weight on her left side. Now that she was leaning further forward, the other side of her large robe had slipped down almost to her elbow, catching on the swell of her breast. Before she could adjust the sleeve, Bellamy said, “How’d you get that?”

She hadn’t realised he’d opened his eyes, so it took her a second to get past the surprise and realise he was talking about the thin jagged line that ran vertically just below her shoulder. It was often hidden by her clothes. When it wasn’t, its pale white colour against her creamy skin meant it usually went unnoticed.

“Oh that. I—I just…” Her throat closed up as the memory came back to her. It was silly really. The incident itself wasn’t a big deal; she’d simply stopped looking where she was walking while on the phone and fell face forward on the sidewalk. She’d had multiple grazes at the time, but only one had left a lasting, albeit faint, mark. If she’d been wearing more than a strappy top at the time she probably wouldn’t have the scar at all. She should just say she tripped and be done with it. If it weren’t for the fact that the call that had startled her was how Clarke first heard the news about her father’s illness, she probably would. She couldn’t think of the injury without remembering how much worse the news she’d just gotten had been.

Bellamy’s words broke through the fog that had come over her, his voice full of warmth. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to—“ she started, blinking rapidly. She was fine, really. Her grief over her dad would always be a part of her, but it was a small part now, tucked away in a box in her mind that she opened less and less as the years went by. She didn’t understand why a tiny scar she mostly forgot she even had would open it.

“Hey.” Bellamy cupped her cheek. “It’s okay.”

Clarke closed her eyes and nuzzled her face into his palm, focusing on the sensation of rough skin—more than just an academic’s calluses—against her smooth cheek. She inhaled a deep breath and let it out.

“Come here,” he said, dropping his other hand to her waist.

As she leaned forward to lie against his chest, Clarke could tell he was bringing her in for a hug, but Clarke touched her lips to his, wanting to show him that she was grateful for his tenderness. He made her feel calm and safe, even if she couldn’t share the whole story with him right now. Bellamy kissed her back softly, never deepening the kiss, even when she tried to take it further. Clarke could feel herself relaxing into his embrace.

She didn’t know how long they lay kissing like that before breaking apart; she’d lost her sense of time. Clarke tucked her head into his neck and Bellamy’s hand ran under her robe to rest on her thigh, drawing leisurely circles into her skin. She’d counted five passes, each growing larger in size, before she realised he’d adjusted the sleeve of her robe, covering her shoulder and scar, while they had been kissing.

“Can you hear that?” she asked after eight circles. It was a faint beeping sound, but she couldn’t work out where it was coming from. It didn’t seem to be in the bedroom.

It was quiet for a moment before it sounded again.

“I think that must be my phone,” Bellamy realised. “It’s still in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” Clarke immediately slid off him, even though Bellamy’s hands didn’t leave her. “You were waiting to hear from Miller, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” He paused for a moment before saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Clarke sat up and leaned against the headboard as she waited, holding the robe close to her body now that her damp skin felt the chill without Bellamy. The robe ended a few inches below her knees, and when she rubbed her bare calves against the cotton bedsheets something felt different. At first, she assumed it was simply that Bellamy had changed the sheets, now a dark blue instead of last week’s beige, but when she tucked her hands under the cover, it felt like its weight had changed too.

Bellamy walked back into the room, his phone in one hand and her handbag in the other.

“Here,” he said, passing the bag over to her.

“Thanks,” Clarke replied, placing the bag on the bedside table as Bellamy settled in next to her. “Um, is this a different cover than before?”

He looked up from his phone briefly to say, “Oh, yeah. There was a thinner duvet in the cupboard, so I swapped it out.” There was a brief pause before he added, “It seemed like you were too warm.”

Clarke bit down her smile, but not the happiness blossoming at the small gesture. “You’re sure you don’t mind?” she asked.

“No, it’s fine. But I might need your help to stay warm,” he finished with a wink.

Clarke giggled. “I can do that.”

She ran her hands along the cover as Bellamy got back to his phone. “I’ve just got to reply to Miller, and I was going to let Gina know you’re coming on Friday—if that’s still okay.”

“Yeah. That’s okay.”

“Cool.” They shared a warm smile before Bellamy returned to his messages.

Clarke decided she may as well check on her phone, even though she wasn’t expecting anything. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t have any new messages, but there was a Netflix notification waiting in the top corner. She dragged the notification down and saw it was recommending a newly added title she might like. Smirking at the title, she made it full size and turned to Bellamy.

“Hey, look what I just got,” she said.

He looked over and rolled his eyes immediately.

Although the second season of _SPQR_ had aired on Netflix internationally, in the US, its original cable channel still had the initial distribution rights. Netflix had clearly learned from her viewing history that she was interested in knowing when the second season was added. Making it even better, the picture they had chosen for her alert was a promotional shot with Bellamy front and centre between two of his colleagues.

He shook his head. “I hate that picture.”

“You look good.” A little stilted maybe, compared to the animation in his face in stills from the show, but still good. Clarke didn’t think Bellamy could take a bad picture.

“I just don’t like doing promo pics.”

Clarke clicked through to the app to scroll through the episode list.

“Do you ever watch it?” she asked, inching closer to him.

“I’ve seen a lot of it,” he admitted. “I just don’t like re-watching my bits.”

“But those are the best bits,” Clarke insisted.

“So says you.”

“So say your many adoring fans,” she pointed out.

“Does that mean you’re one of them?” he smirked.

“I didn’t say that,” she said coyly even though it was obviously true. “You were always very good at explaining things. The last time I went to the museum, I remember thinking I would have taken more in if you’d been the guide.”

“Which museum?”

“Just the one in Arcadia.”

Bellamy frowned. “I always thought that was pretty good; for a small town museum anyway.”

“It used to be. After Dante Wallace died, his son Cage took over— Did you ever meet Cage?”

Bellamy shook his head.

“Well, you’re lucky, he’s the worst. He’s hardly in town, though. He doesn’t care about it, so it hasn’t been updated in ages. I’m surprised he hasn’t sold it by now, to be honest.”

“That’s a shame. I’ll try and go this week,” he added, more to himself.

Clarke met his eyes, amused. “I didn’t think I was selling it.”

“No,” he agreed with a smile, “it’s just— I really liked that place when I was a kid. That was the only chance I got to see any history when I was growing up. We couldn’t exactly afford to go anywhere else.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Clarke observed, feeling a pang of guilt for all the vacations her parents had taken her on in her youth. She probably hadn’t appreciated some of them half as much as Bellamy would have. “Well, if you want to go, they’re open every day except Monday, same as always.”

“Would you like to come with me? I could go on Thursday. That’s your day off, right?” he asked. The easy smile on his face fell when Clarke hesitated. “I guess you probably have plans.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head quickly. “No plans.” She wasn’t at the hospital this week and Monty, Harper and Jordan would only be getting back from Jasper’s mom’s in the evening. Clarke’s only confirmed plan was her yoga class in the morning. She potentially would be calling Wells if he didn’t finish work early enough to chat on Wednesday night, but otherwise the rest of her day had been earmarked to work on her art and chill at home. But she wasn’t going to say no to spending more time with Bellamy. “That sounds like fun.”

“Cool.” His smile returned, warming her insides.

“But you have to explain stuff to me.”

“You know I will. I can write you notes if you want?” Clarke was still laughing when he remembered something else. “Hey, weren’t you going to give me notes? On the other night?” he prompted, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah. I guess I'd say 4 or 3.5,” she replied playfully.

Bellamy sat up sharply, demanding, “3.5?”

“Out of 5,” she explained. When he didn’t look appeased, she added, “3.5 is a good rating!”

His eyes were indignant as he shook his head. “3.5 is a fucking average rating!”

She caressed his face to soothe him, biting down a smile at his flabbergasted look. “If I rated a book 3.5, that means I liked it.”

He frowned. “But would you read it again?”

“I just meant the sex was good—excellent for a first time together,” she explained, sincere. “I rounded down because I’m sure it will be even better next time. 3.5 means room for improvement.” He didn’t look totally convinced. “I’d read you again,” she said sweetly.

His lips curled up infinitesimally. “Now who tells terrible jokes?”

“It’s not a joke. In fact, I’m not sure I read you thoroughly enough,” she purred, trailing her hand into the opening of his robe and tracing a line down the centre of his chest.

She could tell from the way Bellamy’s jaw worked that he was coming around despite himself. “I don’t think this metaphor is making any sense.”

“And yet it’s totally working for you.”

He tried to fight off the grin that was breaking over his face. He tossed his phone aside before taking her by the waist and bringing her into his lap. “Your dirty talk is a fucking 3.5.”

Clarke giggled, securing her arms around his neck. “So show me how it’s done, Professor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts :)  
[The fic moodboard is here](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/188112949313/useyourtelescope-if-the-right-one-came-along-a).


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's not a Thursday but seeing as how this took longer than I said it would I figured I'd just update as it was ready!

“Hmmm.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “_Hmmm_? That’s all you have to say?”

Wells’ chuckle reverberated over the phone. “I’m still taking it all in. I thought we’d have more to catch up on since I had to cancel last week, but I wasn’t prepared to hear you’d started dating a _celebrity_.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. She’d known he would assume it was more serious that it was; he’d been the same way when she and Niylah had been sleeping together. Wells just didn’t get casual relationships. “I told you we’re not _dating._ We’re friends with benefits. And it’s Bellamy. It’s not like—“ She paused, unsure how to phrase it. He certainly was a celebrity, but she’d known him—_liked_ him—before he was famous. She might not have expected him to return, but it was different than if, say, someone from some Marvel movie suddenly rocked up to Arcadia. _That_ would be a level of crazy that warranted Wells’ tone.

She tried to explain it to Wells, but he wasn’t convinced.

“Yeah, but you’d been out of touch for what, ten years now? I mean, I think it’s nice that you guys have reconnected, but it does sound like a bit more than just benefits when you’ve spent so much time together.”

“That’s the friends part, Mr. I-can-only-do-serious-relationships.”

“Haha,” he deadpanned.

“It’s all very casual, Wells, really,” she said, recalling the previous night. How they’d laughed after their accident in the shower, eventually having sex in the more secure bed. Bellamy had been quite insistent on “improving his rating”, and after a while she had stopped trying to argue that he didn’t need to. She wasn’t going to complain about him going down on her for ages.

She’d originally planned to drive back home that night instead of staying over, hoping for an early start at work on Wednesday morning and not wanting to disturb him. However, after that performance, she’d been so boneless even moving to get her head on the pillow had been a struggle. Bellamy had convinced her that he would make sure she got up in plenty of time to go back home and change.

He’d kept his promise about waking her up early, but a freshly woken Bellamy with crazy bedhead had been too cute for Clarke to resist. She’d told herself just a few kisses couldn’t hurt, but one thing had led to another, and two orgasms later she’d been rushing out the door to get back to Arcadia in time for work.

Wells raised a question, bringing her back to the present: “And you’re happy with that?”

“Yeah,” she said, the response almost automatic. “He’s only here for a few weeks.”

“I know, but… Bellamy hasn’t done anything to make you think he might be interested in anything more?”

Clarke instantly thought of how Bellamy had changed the duvet cover because she’d been too warm; how he’d slipped a banana and an apple into her bag when she left that morning because they hadn’t had time for breakfast.

They were things that Clarke appreciated, but that didn’t mean they were romantic. Monty always plied her with leftovers whenever he cooked his mom’s Korean chicken that Clarke loved and had utterly failed to recreate from the recipe herself. Now that Wells had a guest room in the place he and Sasha had bought, he had set it up with exactly the kind of pillows Clarke liked to sleep on, even though he hated fluffy pillows. Friends did nice things like that for each other.

And Bellamy was her friend.

“He hasn’t,” Clarke said. “It’s not like he’s gotten me presents or anything—not like Finn.” Finn had always been getting her gifts, and she’d been impressed by his thoughtfulness considering they’d been broke college students. In addition to flowers and chocolate, he even got her a bracelet once. A cheap and tacky thing, but she’d found it cute at the time.

“Yeah, but we know now that Finn was overcompensating.”

Clarke frowned, silent for a moment. “He wasn’t _that_ small.”

Wells snorted. “Uh, I was talking about him cheating on you and Raven.”

“Oh!” Clarke burst into giggles. “Right.”

“But please do tell—“

“No, no!” Clarke interrupted as she and Wells both laughed into their phones.

“I guess _someone_ has sex on the brain now she’s getting laid on the regular,” Wells joked.

“You said ‘overcompensating’! What else was I supposed to think!”

Once they recovered from their amusement, Clarke redirected the conversation to the latest in Wells’ life, which saw them through the remainder of their chat. It was always good to catch up with Wells, to hear his voice, especially after a busy day at work. Their conversations usually left her with a feeling of fondness, but today, his comment about how much time she was spending with Bellamy gave her food for thought.

She was still thinking on Thursday morning all through her yoga class. Even as she moved through the poses, she couldn’t stop thinking, which probably wouldn’t improve her ability to relax. The knowledge that she was going to see Bellamy shortly afterwards likely didn’t help.

It had been just over a week since Bellamy had first walked into the library, and now that she thought about it, there had only been one day since that she hadn’t seen him. Two of those days had barely counted, a fleeting conversation on Friday and Wednesday morning before she left his place, but the fact still surprised her. She hadn’t quantified it before.

A part of her wondered if it _was_ too much for a casual relationship. Except, it was Bellamy suggesting they hang out just as much, if not more, than she was. He’d been the one to ask if she wanted to go to the museum with him today. An ugly voice in her head piped up that he wouldn’t want her company if he had anyone else to hang out with, and she tried to squash it down. He’d asked her to join him to dinner at Gina’s, and there would be plenty of other people he knew there, after all. And it wasn’t like Bellamy had any problem spending time alone, as evidenced by the days he’d spent reading or just idling in the house.

Clarke had never had an issue spending her free time alone either, but not for the first time, she thought maybe it was odd that she had so few options compared to Bellamy. He was on holiday, with most of his friends back in LA. Clarke, on the other hand, had somehow ended up with only five people she really cared about seeing, three of whom lived miles away and she hardly ever saw in person. Wells was pretty good about keeping in touch, Raven less so. Her mom fell somewhere in between, but they actually worked better with the distance anyway. Clarke used to see Harper and Monty a couple times a week, but naturally, that had become much more irregular since Jordan was born.

Okay, there were six people she cared about, Clarke corrected herself, but she couldn’t really count a baby as one of her friends.

She didn’t want a large quantity of friends, but seeing Bellamy so much made her realise it was nice having someone to hang out with so often. But she would only have that for a couple more weeks—at most; Bellamy still hadn’t mentioned a date for his departure, but it wasn’t as if he could stay here forever.

Clarke was still pondering when she pulled onto her driveway. As she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat, Clarke caught sight of her phone and the text that had come in on the drive back from the yoga studio. Apparently, Bellamy had picked up the rental car and wanted to know if it was all right if he arrived early.

She was about to reply when movement outside caught her eye.

Clarke hadn’t realised Bellamy meant he was already here.

He shot her a sheepish smile as he locked the car and made his way down the sidewalk to her.

Clarke gave herself a quick once over in the rear-view mirror, thankful that she had picked a light yoga class this morning, one that was more restful and meditative. Although her cheeks were a little red, she didn’t look as sweaty and wrecked as she did after an active one. The fact that she was just in her gym clothes, not having bothered to pack a jacket, wouldn’t have been her first choice, though. Her loose, mint green top was long, but slightly sheer, revealing the way her belly crept over the waistband of her yoga pants. The self-consciousness was ridiculous, she reminded herself; she hadn’t thought anything about wearing it before she knew Bellamy would see her in it—and he was the only person she had seen today who had already seen her naked.

“Hey,” she greeted as she exited the car.

He adjusted his glasses as he stopped beside her. “Hey. Sorry I’m so early. I was here before I realised.”

“Not waiting long I hope?”

“No, only five minutes. I was just debating if I should go somewhere else when you arrived. I can still come back later, though… “

Clarke shook her head, leading them to her front door. “No, come in. As long as you don’t mind hanging around for a bit while I get ready?”

Where Clarke would normally start stripping off her top and sports bra right after entering the house post-gym, she managed to check the habit today. Having lived alone for so many years now, she had gotten used to walking around the house in various states of undress. She wasn’t so uninhibited with Bellamy here, no matter how much of her body he’d seen.

“Place looks nice,” Bellamy said as he toed his shoes off in her entryway.

“Thanks.”

She hadn’t made a lot of changes since moving back in. The biggest was getting rid of the large dining table—it was overpowering when a family of three lived there, so it was definitely too much for just one person—and replacing it with a smaller one that she could use for a lot of different things. Clarke had changed the paintings and some photo frames and rearranged the layout so she had better lighting when she wanted to sketch, too. The large sofa, though, was the same one that had sat there since she was in high school, just with new cushions. Of course, Bellamy had never been here then, so it was all new to him.

“How come you got here so early?” she asked, setting her gym bag down next to the coffee table. She sat on the sofa and patted a spot next to her.

“Well…” he laughed, running a hand through his hair before taking a seat. Their legs didn’t touch, but he wasn’t so far away it seemed deliberate. “I picked up the rental car, but then I ended up cutting my morning plans short.”

“Did you forget how long it takes to drive from Polis to Arcadia?”

He shrugged. “Sort of. I felt like going for a drive after this morning and ended up really close to your address a lot sooner than I thought. Figured I’d see if you were around since I was already here.”

Clarke got the feeling Bellamy was holding something back. “And what were you up to this morning?”

Bellamy’s smile twisted, telling her she’d guessed accurately. “I thought I’d go for a walk on the hill—you know the one I mentioned the other day, by my old house?” When Clarke nodded, he continued, “Well, I went, and it was nice at first. Until I interrupted a proposal.”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “You what?”

“Yeah.” He scratched his head. “It was awkward.”

“What happened?” she demanded, reaching down to get her water bottle out of her bag.

“I got to the second crest and saw this guy on bended knee with a ring, and this girl was nodding but had only just started to say yes when she saw me. And then she said my name instead.”

“Wow,” Clarke said, nearly forgetting the bottle in her hand before taking a gulp.

“Yep.”

“So then what happened?” Clarke asked, twisting so she faced him fully, one leg tucked under her.

“She said yes properly and he gave her the ring.”

“They weren’t jerks about it, were they?”

“No, they found it pretty funny, we all laughed. I just didn’t feel like walking much after.”

Clarke considered this. The story was amusing, but she didn’t see how it was a big deal. “Why did it bother you?”

“I—“ Bellamy blew out a breath and gazed absently at the blank television screen before them. “I mean, it’s far from the first time I’ve been recognised but… that was the spot where I used to go—either by myself or with O—when I needed to get away from everything. When things were,” he paused awkwardly before settling on, “rough at home. It felt weird being recognised there. Finishing the rest of my walk sort of lost its appeal.”

Clarke nodded, finally understanding. “I’m sorry,” she said covering his hand where it rested on his thigh with her own.

“It’s okay. I’m probably making it into more than it was. If they hadn’t recognised me, it would have been different. But they were fans of the show and asked to take a picture with me, so...”

“Did you take the picture?”

“Yeah.” Reading some of the confusion in her face, Bellamy went on to explain, “I mean, the paparazzi stuff is annoying, but I don’t mind taking a picture with people occasionally.”

“I get that, I just thought…if they post it, then won’t it get out that you’re here? Aren’t you worried about more paparazzi?”

Bellamy shrugged. “Honestly, when we announced that Echo and I had broken up, the amount of interest in me went way down—which was a positive. That first week, there were more paps, but that was about it. Historians don’t really sell magazines when they’re not dating actresses.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No,” he replied easily. “I don’t want to be in magazines.”

“No, I mean—how interested everyone is? Or was? Do you think… do you think it affected your relationship with Echo?” Clarke was surprised at herself for voicing the question. But she had wondered, and this might be her only chance to ask it and still seem only casually interested in the answer.

Bellamy seemed surprised by the question, but he gave it weight, taking his time answering.

Clarke took a long gulp of water.

“I think it affected _me_ more than the relationship,” he said finally. “I wasn’t expecting it to blow up so quickly, and I’d only just started getting used to how famous _SPQR _would make_ me_. But then we got spotted on our first date, and the interview requests, appearances, everything just—it felt like it quadrupled. And that affected how I saw myself for a while, knowing that people were only interested because I was dating someone more famous. It’s okay,” he added with a smile.

It took Clarke a second to realise he’d done so in response to her hand, previously just resting over his, twisting to hold his tightly.

It just made her so sad that Bellamy would have ever felt that way though, and she didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t a world she understood, so how could she empathise?

She put her water down to free her other hand and gave him a hug as best she could while they were sitting next to each other.

“Really, I’m fine,” he insisted lightly, but he still tugged her into his lap to better return the hug. “I’m not upset over it or anything. Doing the press tour for season two helped—for every reporter who tried to ask about Echo, there were so many more fans who were genuinely interested in the show.”

“Good, I’m glad,” she said into his neck. “And if it helps, I had no idea who Echo was before she started dating you.”

Bellamy chuckled into her hair. “That’s because you live in Arcadia where the cinema only has one screen that fits about forty people.”

“Hey, come on,” Clarke said, breaking away from the hug. She looked him right in the eye when she said very seriously, “We have two screens now.”

“Oh, wow.”

“And there’s a new multiplex about an hour away.”

“My apologies,” Bellamy replied, mock repentant. Then he shrugged. “Anyway, I’m not worried about attracting a swarm of paparazzi if that couple post the picture to The Instagram or anything.”

Clarke cracked up. “_The_ Instagram?”

“Yeah?” Bellamy raised a brow, clearly not understanding.

“Bellamy, you’re famous. You’ve spent so much time with students at college. Don’t tell me you think it’s called _The_ Instagram.”

He flushed, but still argued, “It’s not like we spend a lot of time talking about their social media posts.”

“Wait,” Clarke remembered, “you even have your own Instagram profile!

“Miller runs all my social media,” he admitted. “I just occasionally give him history stuff to post if I’m travelling.”

“I get that. But you talk about it, right?”

“Miller just talks about what he’s doing on social media, ‘cause he posts on a few things. But O always says stuff like if she has to stop to pose for The Instagram—or something like that anyway.”

Clarke pondered this for a moment before enlightenment settled in. “Wait—does she say _‘Do it for the ‘gram’_?”

“Yeah!” His enthusiasm dimmed when Clarke visibly had to hold back giggles, her shoulders shaking. “I have definitely called it The Instagram around Octavia, and she never said anything. And I’m sure she said it back to me,” he said with a huff.

“She is your little sister, though. She probably wanted to mess with you.”

Bellamy nodded his agreement, running a hand through his hair as if that could ease his embarrassment. “I guess she was right—I am an old man.”

Clarke shook her head. “You are very cute,” she said, leaning forward and pecking his lips.

She began to draw back, but Bellamy’s hands tightened around her waist, keeping her in place as he deepened the kiss.

“Well, you’re very sexy,” he murmured against her lips.

A giggle left Clarke’s lips as one of his hands ran up and down her thigh. She’d worried that the skin-tight yoga pants accentuated the roundness of her thighs, but Bellamy didn’t seem to mind, squeezing her leg roughly.

“I have to shower,” she said, leaning back. “I’d say you should join me, but after the other day… “

Bellamy laughed. “Yeah, I’m still sore.”

“Aw.” Clarke pressed a soft kiss to the side of his jaw, which she did note was tinged purple. “Poor baby.”

“Do you have to shower right now?” he asked, one hand palming her butt cheek while he kissed the side of her neck.

“I mean…” Clarke sighed as Bellamy kissed behind her ear. “I _suppose_ I could get sweatier before cleaning up…”

“That can be arranged.”

It wasn’t long before Bellamy had resettled her to straddle his lap and they were helping each other undress in between hot kisses. She pulled off her top but was distracted by Bellamy’s now shirtless chest before she could take off her sports bra. It was hard to remember the self-conscious thoughts that plagued her when she was delighted by the sight of his gorgeously freckled body. She started trailing kisses down his torso, but Bellamy was pulling impatiently on the waistband of her leggings. She stood up to let him pull them down.

While he bent, Clarke looked up and caught a glimpse of the open kitchen behind the living room.

Normally, she liked that it was open; she could have the TV on in the living room while she was in the kitchen. Today, however, she had completely forgotten the carnage she had left across every inch of the countertops. She’d always been a messy cook, but she did her best to tidy after eating. Last night after talking to Wells for longer than planned, she had been too lazy to clean up and told herself she’d do it after she got back from yoga in the morning. It didn’t happen often, but occasionally she let herself put it off if she was really tired. After all, she lived alone; no one would see it.

Or so she’d thought.

Worrying about the mess, she almost missed Bellamy tugging on her thigh to bring her back down to him.

“Something wrong?” he asked as she pulled off her sports bra.

Clarke shook her head quickly, returning to his lap and locking her arms around his neck. “I’m fine.”

Bellamy frowned, studying her face closely. “You’re uncomfortable. Did I do something—“

“No,” Clarke assured. “I promise. You didn’t do anything.” Her smile was more genuine, but she couldn’t help her eyes from flickering behind over his shoulder.

He caught on and started to turn, but Clarke shot a hand out from where it was perched on his shoulder and stopped him cold.

“Wait! Don’t— Don’t look over there.”

“What?” Bellamy’s confusion was clearly growing.

“I’m serious! Eyes front.”

She watched him fight the urge to turn. “_Okay_. Can I ask why?”

“I don’t want you to see.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You got a dead body over there, Griffin?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Then what’s so important? No window that people are spying on us from, right?” He suddenly sounded serious, pulling her in so that her body was pressed against his. Not in a sexy way, but more like he wanted to keep her covered.

“What? No! Wait, has that actually happened to you?” Clarke asked, pulling back to meet his eyes even as he tried to keep her close.

“Yeah, someone tried to get shots of us inside Echo’s house once,” he admitted, face drawn. “I mean, I don’t think that anyone knows or cares enough to stalk me to your place, but—“

“No, it’s okay. There’s a small window in the kitchen, but no one’s there.”

Bellamy’s arms loosened around her back, his face relaxing.

From that perspective, Clarke figured she probably was making too big a deal out of dirty dishes. She sighed, embarrassed nonetheless. “It’s really messy,” Clarke said, pouting. When Bellamy chuckled, she added, “I mean it! It is.”

“So, what? You thought I was going to leave you hanging because you’re a little messy?”

“It’s a lot messy.”

“Clarke.” He smirked but sounded fond too.

“I’m normally more organised. I was going to do it before you came over.”

Bellamy’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. “You don’t have to clean up for me, you know.”

“I just don’t like when anyone comes over and the house is a mess.”

“This is not a mess,” he said seriously. “Trust me.”

“You can’t see what I can see.”

“Okay.”

Bellamy took a breath and then twisted, taking himself from sitting upright to lying flat on the couch. She let out a squeal of surprise as she twisted along with him. Using her palms pressed against his stomach, she sat up taller. The kitchen was still in her eyeline if she turned her head, but her focus was pulled down to where a shirtless Bellamy lay.

“Better?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Though if you start getting distracted and look the mess while we’re having sex, I am going to take that personally.”

“No need to worry,” Clarke said, biting her lip as she stared down at him, messy hair strewn about the cushion while his glasses slid down his nose. “This is a much better view.”

Going to the museum got off to a strange start when Clarke struggled to get dressed after her shower. She had decided on an outfit while in the shower expressly so that wouldn’t happen, but ran into problems anyway.

She tried on two of her favourite sundresses that she rarely had an excuse to wear nowadays, only to find that neither fit comfortably anymore. On the first she struggled to do up the buttons across her stomach, while the second was uncomfortably tight around her biceps. She knew she’d put on weight in her stomach since she’d last worn the dresses, but when did her arms change shape?

With a sigh, Clarke settled on a moss green t-shirt and jeans, thinking she could dress it up with her new blazer. However, it wasn’t hanging with her other jackets in her closet. Assuming she had put it somewhere else after her dinner with Bellamy last week, Clarke decided to look for it another time and pulled out a different jacket. It was scruffy, but at least it was here and she knew it fit.

Luckily, talking to Bellamy as they walked to the museum was so easy that her annoyance faded quickly. They started off discussing the book he’d taken off her shelf to read while waiting for her (after he swore he hadn’t looked in the kitchen), before moving on to other books they had read over the last few months.

Once they were inside, perusing the exhibits, Bellamy proved her suspicion right: he was an excellent museum guide. Even though there wasn’t anything related to his speciality, his passion for history lit up Clarke’s curiosity, even when viewing the areas she had previously considered boring.

She was shocked when, having seen all the exhibits and now browsing in the gift shop, she looked at her watch. How had this much time had passed?

The gift shop was unsurprisingly small considering the size of the museum but still had a decent selection. She made her decision quickly, having spotted something she liked the look of last time she’d visited but hadn’t bought.

Bellamy was still browsing the shelf of books that he’d started at when she went back to him.

“Are you getting anything?” she asked.

“I can’t decide,” he said, showing her the three books he was holding. “What about you?”

“I’m getting this for Jordan.” She held up the baby bib.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing. I’m just getting it”

“Ah.” He smiled broadly. “So you’re _that_ aunt, huh?”

Clarke refused to be embarrassed. “I’m not his parent. I can spoil him all I like.”

He chuckled. “No judgement. I might be a while longer, is that okay?”

Her stomach was alerting her to the fact that she would normally be eating lunch by now, but she still nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll go pay.”

The girl behind the counter, probably about nineteen, was yet another museum staff member Clarke didn’t recognise today. It could have been that she hadn’t been for a while, but Clarke was reminded of the rumour she’d heard: more and more of the museum staff lived further out of town. There was a much higher staff turnover nowadays, and the number of locals who wanted the job were dwindling. Apparently, resignations usually coincided with whenever Cage Wallace visited.

Once she had completed her transaction, the display of flyers just outside the gift shop exit caught Clarke’s eye. Most were for places and events she knew, but she was pleasantly surprised to learn there was a new art exhibition coming to one of her favourite galleries. The gallery was about two hours over, so she didn’t get to visit as often as she liked, but even the small-scale images looked appealing. She would like to make the effort, but she probably would have to go by herself. She’d convinced Harper to come with her last time she’d made the trip; although her friend had nice things to say about that collection, it had been clear she’d only come to keep Clarke company. Even if Harper was willing to do it again, the logistics now that she had Jordan would be a headache.

It wasn’t like Clarke could ask Bellamy to the opening of an exhibition almost a month away. Bellamy would be gone by then.

She was jerked out of that dispiriting thought by an unexpected voice calling her name.

“Clarke?”

She turned and smiled in surprise. Although it was a friendly face, she hadn’t seen him in quite a few months. “Oh, Dr. Marks. Hi.”

He smiled as he moved to stand by her. “I’m not working today, so it’s just Cillian, please.”

Clarke laughed. “Okay.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

Before she could return the question, Cillian asked, “Do you still go to the hospital on Thursdays?”

“Yes. I was there last week. Back next week,” Clarke explained.

“Good. I have to say I miss helping out with your activities now I’ve changed hospitals. The patients always enjoyed them.”

Clarke ducked her head to hide her smile, embarrassed by the compliment. “I hope you’re enjoying your new hospital otherwise, though.”

“Yes, it’s good despite that. Do you come to the museum often?”

“Not very.” She didn’t know Cillian well enough to be certain if she should express her disappointment with the direction the museum had taken. “Do you?”

“My brother recently started working here, so I came to see him. You’re from Arcadia, aren’t you?” When Clarke confirmed, he asked, “Do you have any recommendations for where to go while I’m here? I might not be far away, living in Mecha, but I haven’t spent much time here.”

Clarke started listing her favourite places as Cillian listened attentively. She was so lost in making sure she didn’t forget anything that Bellamy’s abrupt appearance beside her took her completely by surprise.

“Hey, you ready?”

“Oh, hey,” she said, turning to him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“That’s okay.”

“Bellamy Blake,” he said, acknowledging Cillian and sticking his hand out.

The other man shook it, introducing himself: “Dr. Cillian Marks.”

Bellamy nodded back. For some reason, Clarke felt like the friendly atmosphere had evaporated.

“Cillian used to work at the hospital I volunteer at,” she explained to Bellamy.

“And it’s the volunteers like Clarke that make all the difference to the patients,” he said warmly.

Clarke laughed, about to interject that surely the medical staff made the most difference, but Bellamy responded lowly, “I’m sure they do.” Then he added, “Are you ready for lunch?”

Clarke blinked as she returned her gaze to Bellamy’s face. She couldn’t remember making plans for lunch with Bellamy. They’d said they would go to the museum in the morning because he had a teleconference that afternoon, but she didn’t think they had mentioned lunch. Maybe he’d assumed they would after, considering it _was_ lunchtime.

Either way, she was happy to go get lunch with Bellamy. She was starving.

“Yes,” Clarke said brightly before turning back to Cillian. “Well, we should get going.”

Cillian nodded. “It was very nice to see you again, Clarke.”

“You too,” Clarke replied politely before making their goodbyes.

As they walked out of the museum, Clarke noticed Bellamy didn’t seem to have bought anything, despite the extended deliberating. When she asked him though, he only shrugged, saying he decided against it before asking where she’d like to get food.

“If I’m eating out on a Thursday, I normally go to Lincoln’s café—but that’s mainly so I can paint too.” Plus, if it was quiet, Lincoln would chat with her. “But, oh, will it be weird for you? To see him?” She had completely forgotten about their tense past. Lincoln was happily living with his boyfriend Nyko now, but she could tell from the way he spoke about her whenever she occasionally came up that Octavia Blake was a tender subject for him.

“No, actually that’s fine. We— Well, we cleared the air, actually,” Bellamy said.

Clarke’s eyes grew wide, but when she looked up at Bellamy, his gaze remained straight ahead. “Oh really? When did you see him?”

“On Saturday. After Storytime, I went to his café and we had a bit of a chat.”

“A chat?”

“I apologised for being a dick to him back when everything with O went down, and he accepted it. At least, he said he did.” Bellamy shrugged. “I don’t think he’d kick me out at any rate. And the café looked nice. I don’t mind going there if you want to.”

Clarke was puzzled that Bellamy hadn’t mentioned that conversation when she saw him on Saturday night, but was glad nonetheless that the talk had taken place. Although she wasn’t close to Lincoln, she thought well of him and was glad there were no lingering bad feelings between the two men.

“I’m sure Lincoln won’t kick you out,” she said confidently.

Lincoln proved her confidence to be well placed when they arrived at the café about ten minutes later. He didn’t greet Bellamy quite as warmly as he did Clarke, but he seemed even and certainly not hostile. That wasn’t Lincoln.

The café was split into two areas with an open doorway connecting them. Clarke took Bellamy to her favourite table tucked away in the back corner, on autopilot. She liked it for the skylight situated just above it when she came in to paint and for being slightly separated from the hustle and bustle of the bigger space. Even though it wasn’t that busy, Clarke thought Bellamy might prefer the spot to sitting with the other customers after the events that morning.

They were halfway through their sandwiches when Clarke told him, “I… I have kind of a weird question to ask.”

He looked up from his plate, obviously intrigued. It was certainly a sudden segue from their pleasant discussion of the museum. “Okay.”

She had been debating when to ask him for this favour and had come to the conclusion there would never be a best time. She had meant to straight after the museum but had stalled when it turned out lunch was in the cards too. However, she couldn’t keep putting it off.

“I was asked if you would visit a middle school history class.”

“Oh.”

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to,” she hurried to add, “but I said I would ask.”

Bellamy nodded. “Go to the class and do something specific or just talk?”

“Err…” Clarke bit her lip. She hadn’t thought about that. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“The teacher didn’t suggest anything?”

“It wasn’t the teacher who asked me actually. I know two of the girls. They asked me when they were at the library.” When Bellamy still looked confused, Clarke realised that didn’t explain why they would know to speak to her about him. “I mentioned you to one of them—Madi. After the first season came out, I was helping her with her homework in the library, and she said they’d watched a bit of _SPQR_ in school. I mentioned we’d been friends, so when they’d heard you were back, she and Charlotte decided to ask.”

“I see.”

When Bellamy sipped his drink contemplatively, Clarke felt the need to say, “I guess you don’t really want to spend your break doing that kind of stuff.”

Bellamy shook his head. “I’m actually doing something at the college next week, just going in to talk to my old professor’s students. And I’ve done college and a couple of high school visits in LA, but never middle school. Could I maybe think about it? It probably depends on what they want me to do.”

“I think they would be happy with whatever you wanted to contribute if you did,” Clarke guessed. “But, yeah, of course you can think about it first.”

After taking another bite of his sandwich Bellamy inquired with a smile, “So, do you help all the kids in the library with their homework?”

“Uh, no. I actually know Madi from the hospital,” Clarke began. It had been a long time since she’d had to explain the story to anyone. Small towns and everyone aware of everyone’s business had at least one upside. “Madi’s mom was sick at the same time as my dad, and we saw each other in waiting rooms a lot. One day she was all by herself, and we started talking. I know it sounds kind of strange to say I bonded with a six-year-old, but… She didn’t have any other family, and I got what she was going through.”

Bellamy wasn’t looking at her like it was strange though. His smile was gentle and understanding.

“Anyway, Charlotte had been Madi’s best friend for a few years already. When Madi’s mom passed away, Charlotte’s parents adopted her.”

“So, you guys are still pretty close?”

Clarke thought about that for a moment. “Not exactly. I mean, I still look out for her when I can, but she doesn’t really need me in the same way anymore. I mainly see her with Charlotte at the library or around town, and we’ll chat. Occasionally, if Madi’s having a hard time with family stuff, Charlotte’s mom texts me, and I’ll give Madi someone else to talk to,” she explained.

Bellamy nodded thoughtfully. “Why didn’t you say that it was someone you were close with who asked you? About me going to visit the school?”

“That’s not important. Really, I didn’t ask to put you on the spot or anything.” Bellamy didn’t look convinced, so she added seriously, “You shouldn’t do it if you don’t want to. Especially if you’d only say yes just because I know them. I already said you might not be able to.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it.” Bellamy scrunched up his face as he considered. “Maybe if you could get their teacher’s contact details and I could discuss it with them? See what kind of level I’d be pitching to?”

“Sure.” Clarke nodded in agreement. “I can do that.”

After they finished their sandwiches, Clarke got up to get them cake. When she re-entered the main area, the earlier patrons had cleared out. Which made sense since it was well past lunch now. The only customers left were two ladies by the front window. Clarke didn’t look at them closely at first, her eyes set on the main counter. However, once she realised Lincoln wasn’t there, she looked around and noticed the lady facing her was one of her colleagues.

She looked up from painting. “Hello, Clarke.”

“Hi, Sheila. Sadie,” she added with a smile to the other lady who had turned to look at her.

Sadie merely smiled at Clarke and resumed her knitting. She wasn’t one to engage in much conversation; perhaps that was why she and Sheila worked so well as friends.

“Did Lincoln just pop into the back?” Clarke asked.

“Oh, he went to have a talk with those men outside,” Sheila said, eyes focused on painting the jug in front of her.

Curious, Clarke took a step closer so she could peer out the large window. It took her a few seconds to spot them, slightly obscured by the café’s name and logo painted across the glass pane. But when she did, she saw Lincoln with his back to the café, standing between it and two men loitering on the opposite side of the street. Clarke spotted the large cameras they were holding before she saw their faces.

The one with the smaller camera was Diggs, but she didn’t recognise the other, older man. His equipment looked professional.

Maybe he had seen that photo of Bellamy with the newly engaged couple this morning? It had been shared online and looked to be going viral, but he would have to live close by to have gotten here already... And how had they figured out where Bellamy was?

Clarke bit her lip in thought. They hadn’t noticed anyone looking at them particularly closely today, and the museum had been pretty quiet. Still, it was likely enough people had seen and taken note of them there, especially considering his field; if Bellamy was going to get recognised anywhere, it would be a museum.

“Not to worry, dear,” Sheila said pleasantly. “I’m sure Lincoln will take care of it.”

Clarke found it odd that Sheila sounded so certain. Sheila was the one regular volunteer at the library who hadn’t asked Clarke about Bellamy, even though Clarke knew for a fact that she had watched the series. Clarke had assumed that meant she wasn’t interested, but it still seemed weird that she was so at ease now.

Lincoln looked resolute though; even with his back to them, his posture radiated formidable confidence. Clarke let out a low breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding when the two men walked off in the other direction, Diggs with his head hung in clear disappointment.

Lincoln stood, watching them leave, before heading back to the café.

Sheila and Sadie shot him a smile as he entered, but Lincoln only nodded at them, silent. Until he locked eyes with Clarke.

“Clarke,” he said, walking easily behind the counter as if he hadn’t stared down a couple of paparazzi. “Did you want to get something else?”

“No, I mean, yes,” she corrected, since that was the reason she had come out in the first place. Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry. About all that,” she said, gesturing to the door.

Lincoln’s reply was steady and swift. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

“Thanks for getting rid of them,” she said. “I know Bellamy will really appreciate it.”

Lincoln looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s a shame that Bellamy is pursued so thoroughly, but I assumed he would be used to it by now.”

“In a way, but he still finds it uncomfortable,” she explained quietly so Sheila and Sadie couldn’t overhear from their chatter. Or rather, just Sheila’s chatter.

Lincoln nodded, though his expression suggested he found this surprising. She didn’t know how anyone could know Bellamy and not know that. Then again, Lincoln’s history with Bellamy mainly consisted of Bellamy not wanting his sister to date him. Even if that was behind them, it stood to reason that Lincoln hadn’t really known much of Bellamy’s personality other than the overprotective brother. For someone who could be effortlessly charming, it was a surprise to some people that he could be reserved and shy. But Lincoln wouldn’t have had a reason or desire to understand Bellamy that well.

“In that case, I’m glad to have been of help,” Lincoln said easily. “But I admit I was thinking of your privacy, not his.”

“Me?” Clarke blurted.

“Yes. _You_ never asked for any of the attention that comes from celebrity life.”

It took Clarke a second longer than it should have for his words to sink in. She ducked her head on a shy smile. “Oh. Well, thank you. That’s… that’s really nice of you.”

“It was nothing. Anyone else gives you any trouble, let me know, okay? I’m sure you can handle it, but if you need anything, Nyko and I would be happy to help.”

Clarke blinked. “Thank you, Lincoln,” she said, though it seemed inadequate to express her gratitude. “I really appreciate that.”

Lincoln merely nodded as if it was nothing, the kind of offer anyone would make. “Anytime. Now, what can I get you?”

Clarke requested the two slices of cake they wanted, and Lincoln said he would cut them and bring over to the table for her.

When she returned to their table, Bellamy was typing on his phone. He glanced up when she took her seat, seemingly oblivious to how long she’d been gone only to return with no cake. “Everything all right?”

Clarke nodded tightly, still processing Lincoln’s kind actions and offer. As much as she liked Lincoln, they only ever chatted at the café or when their paths crossed in town. She had only met his boyfriend Nyko a handful of times. She knew she could have counted on the same from Harper or Monty, but to get it from someone she wasn’t that close to… Clarke was truly touched.

“Yes, I—“ Clarke cleared her throat to combat some of the unexpected dryness. “I’m good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the update :)  
We're off schedule now, but I'll let you know when I've written ahead enough to be back on a regular posting routine; in the meantime if you want to know about writing progress & whatnot you can always hmu on [tumblr](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/187034436148/if-the-right-one-came-along-a-bellarke-library).


	7. Chapter 7

Clarke immediately reached for her phone when it buzzed, her lips dropping into a frown once she realised it wasn’t the call from Harper she was anticipating. Instead, it was a text from her mom containing a link, unsurprisingly, to a job advert. Clarke dismissed the notification from her screen, ignoring it for now. She couldn’t compose a satisfactory reply to her mom before Harper called, not when she was already busy with something else. Even if that something else was just rifling through her wardrobe.

She didn’t get very far before her phone buzzed again.

Harper, Monty and Jordan had returned home last night, and Harper had texted that morning asking if she was free to chat after work. It was the night of Gina’s dinner so Clarke had planned to leave work early anyway—well, not early for the hours she was meant to do, but early for the time she normally finished—to give herself more time to get ready. However, she was happy to cut into some of that time to catch up with her friend.

She was pleased to hear the trip to Jasper’s mom had gone well, undeniably poignant but with plenty of good memories too. Jasper’s mom was practically another grandparent to Jordan, who was also quite taken with her, and Harper shared plenty of happy stories from the days gone by.

“How’s your week been?” Harper asked, once she’d gotten all the reminiscing out of the way.

“Good, thanks.”

“When is your next… _non_-date with Bellamy?”

Clarke hesitated. “Um…”

“Oh my God, it’s tonight, isn’t it?” Harper exclaimed.

“I am seeing him tonight, but—” At her friend’s indrawn breath, Clarke rushed to continue before Harper could get too excited, “It won’t be just us. I’m his plus-one to a dinner party.”

“Fancy. Who’s hosting this dinner party?”

“His ex, Gina.”

“Err…” Clarke could practically hear the wheels turning in Harper’s mind. “He’s taking you to meet his ex-wife?”

“I’ve already met her, actually,” Clarke pointed out. “They started dating before I left for college, and she came into the library a few times that summer.”

“Mmhmm. And how do you feel about going to a dinner party at your… _beneficial_ friend’s ex-wife’s house?”

Clarke snorted. “That makes him sound like my benefactor.”

“Well, I certainly hope he has sponsored plenty of orgasms,” Harper said, eliciting further laughter from Clarke. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the lack of details in your texts, either.”

Clarke sobered somewhat. Harper had messaged her on Sunday morning asking how the previous night had gone, but Clarke had been so distracted by Bellamy that she had only noticed it much later. Then, it hadn’t seemed right to gossip about her sexy times with Bellamy when Harper was going to have an emotional few days ahead of her, so she had kept the details brief. “I just thought I’d tell you in person.”

“Well. Because I’m nice, I won’t push for more before then.”

“And because we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow?” Clarke guessed.

“It does help that Storytime is tomorrow, yes. But you haven’t answered my question,” Harper reminded her.

“I feel… fine.”

“Just fine?” Harper prompted. “You really don’t think it’s a big deal he’s taking you with him?”

“It’s—Okay, I do feel a little nervous,” Clarke begrudgingly admitted. “But only because I won’t know anyone else there. Other guests are bringing people too.” She didn’t actually know if any of those plus-ones would be actual dates or just friends like her, but she didn’t elaborate on that. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“If you insist. I just— Well, Clarke, you don’t tend to notice when people are interested in you,” Harper said.

“What?” Clarke wracked her brain, trying to think of an instance when something like that had happened. “When?”

“Okay, you remember that party Raven had a few months after Monty and I first moved here?” Harper asked. “You drove up with us to D.C.?”

“Yeah.”

“At least three different people tried to flirt with you.”

“What? No,” Clarke said automatically.

“That was just what I saw,” her friend replied, insistent. “And it didn’t look like you were dismissing them. You acted like the flirting wasn’t even happening.”

Clarke couldn’t recall one, let alone three, such incidents, but that party had been years ago. “I don’t remember that, but I wouldn’t have been looking for anything at that party.”

“That’s what I figured,” Harper agreed. “I still didn’t know you that well, and I thought you were just politely ignoring them because you wanted to spend time with Raven and Wells, not hook up with some rando. But over the years… I’ve seen it happen a lot when we’re out. And not just in bars,” Harper added. “Even in stores and stuff.”

Clarke scoffed. “Random people have _not_ tried to flirt with me while we’re shopping,” she said adamantly. She could allow that maybe people had tried to flirt with her while they’d been out for the night and she’d forgotten after one too many drinks, but when she’d been sober? That hadn’t happened.

“They have! And not just strangers. Last year, there was that doctor we ran into at the bar. What was his name, um— He helps out with your volunteer sessions— Dr. Matthews?”

“Dr. Marks. Cillian?” she guessed, based only on the name.

“Yes! He was _super_ into you.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Clarke said immediately, her cheeks flushing as she remembered running into him only yesterday.

“He was! He was totally trying to get you to invite him to join us.”

Clarke opened and closed her mouth as she tried to figure out how to reply. This would have been an awkward conversation in person, but it felt excruciating over the phone. “If you thought that, then why didn’t you say anything?” she asked eventually.

Harper was quick to respond: “I did, but you brushed it off.”

A frown instantly covered Clarke’s face, but after taking a minute to think about it, she realised Harper had actually said something along those lines. She just hadn’t thought her friend meant it.

“Well, I don’t remember you saying anything any other time.”

“Because I figured that if you were interested in him—or any of those other people—you would have brought them up yourself. But you never did.”

Clarke pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“You really haven’t noticed, have you?”

“I haven’t,” she said, slow and still trying recall any kind of flirting, “but I do think you might have misinterpreted. I actually saw Cillian yesterday, and he didn’t flirt with me.”

“Well, he definitely shouldn’t be flirting with volunteers at the hospital.”

“I wasn’t at the hospital yesterday,” Clarke corrected. “And, anyway, Cillian left a few months ago. I saw him at the museum.”

“I see.” Harper hesitated. “Did you go to the museum with Bellamy?”

“Yes.”

“Uh huh,” Harper dragged out.

Clarke knew she wasn’t going to like her friend’s answer but couldn’t help asking, “What?”

“Not to state the obvious, but most people aren’t going to hit on someone they think is on a date.”

“Maybe,” Clarke admitted finally. There was no point in saying it wasn’t a date. It could easily have looked like that from the outside to someone like Cillian who didn’t know her that well, especially with heteronormative assumptions. “But I still don’t think that’s what it was.”

“If you say so,” Harper relented, before changing the topic. “You ready for tonight’s dinner party then?”

“Not really,” Clarke said, unable to keep the deflated tone from her voice.

“How come?”

“Well, none of my favourite options seem to fit anymore,” she complained.

She knew it had been a long time since she regularly dressed up, but she hadn’t thought it had been quite that long. Harper sympathised with her predicament, especially since she was dealing with her own clothing dilemmas thanks to not losing much of her pregnancy weight.

Her friend eventually suggested the red lace dress Clarke had bought on one of their shopping trips last year, and the blazer she knew was a recent purchase. It was a good suggestion, particularly when everything else that fit in her wardrobe were work clothes or too casual. Clarke’s only objection was that she’d worn it a week and a half ago to dinner with Bellamy, but she didn’t express it. Saying she didn’t want to repeat an outfit might make Harper think Clarke was trying to make some kind of impression on him—which wasn’t the case at all. She had just wanted to wear something different, but it seemed as though she didn’t have any other options for tonight, and she did like the outfit.

In the end, her appearance wasn’t identical to last Wednesday’s dinner. One reason for that was unfortunate; she still hadn’t been able to figure out what she’d done with the blazer. By the time she hung up with Harper, there wasn’t much time left to search. Reasoning that she would be indoors most of the night, Clarke decided she could have a proper look for it on Sunday and skip a jacket entirely.

The other reason was Harper’s suggestions for her hair had given Clarke the encouragement to do something other than her standard loose waves. The braid that fell across the crown of her head would never match the intricate designs Harper sometimes sported (or had before Jordan was born), but Clarke thought it was pretty enough for the occasion.

She increased her estimation of the look when she swung her front door open to greet Bellamy, who’d arrived to pick her up, and his eyes raked over her approvingly.

“Hey. Did you want—“

Before Clarke could finish, Bellamy had taken the two strides needed to cross the threshold, pushed the door shut behind him and was kissing her, long and hard.

She initially murmured her surprise against his lips, but a moment later realised she didn’t see reason to argue. Letting her arms wrap around him, Clarke did her best to match his unexpected, though by no means unwelcome, ardour.

“Not that I mind,” she said breathlessly, once he broke away for air without letting her out of his embrace, “but where did that come from? ”

“You trying to drive me crazy in this dress,” he said, tilting to kiss the base of her throat. One of his hands moved from her waist to trail a hot path over her thigh and down to finger the hem of the dress.

Clarke played with his curls as she laughed, a light mix of amusement and pleasure. “You’ve already seen me in it,” she pointed out.

“And you still look fucking hot,” he said roughly, continuing to press kisses up her neck. He ran his other hand up and down her back, stopping to squeeze her butt to emphasize the point. “And you’ve done your hair all fancy…”

His kisses had reached her ear by this point, and he tried to continue behind her earlobe, but Clarke put a hand on his chest as he reached her hairline. “Don’t we have to leave soon to get there on time?” she asked, not unreasonably.

He pouted. “We have a bit of time…”

“It’ll take me ages to redo my hair,” Clarke said.

His pout intensified to the point that Clarke decided to reclassify it as a frown. “Okay, I won’t touch your hair. But we could make out for a couple of minutes, right?”

She laughed. “It’s _your_ friends we’re going to see, so…“

“Well, in that case,” Bellamy said, raising an eyebrow suggestively, “we can be thirty minutes late.”

“Bellamy! No, we can’t,” she said firmly, even though she was amused by his interest. Maybe it was silly that she wanted to make a good impression on a bunch of people she’d likely never see again, but it wasn’t in her nature to wilfully be late to something.

But Bellamy did make it very tempting.

“_Three_ minutes late,” she relented, prompting a wolfish grin on Bellamy’s part.

Three minutes quickly turned into five, but when they reached eight, Clarke really did put her foot down. At least she’d only been wearing lip gloss, and Bellamy had kept his word and left her hair alone, so she didn’t have to do much to touching up in the car. Thankfully, they didn’t hit any traffic and didn’t lose any additional time before trying to find parking on Gina’s street.

Unfortunately, it could better be described as trying and failing to find parking.

“I thought you said there were only going to be a dozen or so people? ‘A little dinner party’ were your words,” Clarke said, observing all the parked cars and the obnoxiously loud music coming from a nearby house. She tugged on the hem of her dress nervously.

“We’ve already driven past Gina’s. Someone else must be having a party.”

They ended up having to go another two streets before they found a space. They would probably be more than fifteen minutes late by the time they walked back to Gina’s house. Clarke mentally chided herself as they got out of the car. Their hands brushed accidentally as they started down the sidewalk and she jerked her hand away instinctively, jostling the gift bag she carried. There’d been too much touching already, especially considering they couldn’t be physical with each other at the dinner party.

“You really didn’t have to bring anything, you know,” Bellamy said easily, clearly oblivious to her increasing nerves.

"It's just to say thank you for letting me come. They do drink red right?" she added. The wine purchase had been a last minute decision when she'd been at the store yesterday evening. Bellamy had texted her back in time to confirm Gina liked wine even as he said she didn't need to get anything, but she hadn't thought to check details. 

Bellamy assured her it was fine, but Clarke still felt unsure as they approached the front door. He looked put together but still casual in his long-sleeved navy shirt over dark jeans. She wished she could do another last check of her appearance, but she had no time to act before the door swung open.

Gina beamed, opening the door wider to let them in. She pulled Bellamy into a warm embrace as Clarke stood self-consciously behind him. When he stepped aside, she gave Gina an awkward wave, but Gina pulled her into a hug too.

“It’s wonderful to see you, Clarke,” she said with surprising warmth.

Clarke was unaware she’d made enough of an impression in her few interactions with Gina to be remembered so fondly. At the time, Clarke had been too busy dealing with her disappointment and jealousy over Bellamy getting a girlfriend that, although she had never acted unkindly towards Gina, she hadn’t made any particular effort to be friendly to her either. Definitely not how she should have acted to her best friend’s new girlfriend. She felt oddly guilty now; perhaps because it was easier to feel that way when that relationship hadn’t worked out.

“Oh, I— It’s nice to see you too,” she replied, remembering her manners. “Here,” she added, passing the wine over.

“Thank you so much,” Gina replied with far too much enthusiasm for something picked because it was the best-looking bottle in the discount section.

A man emerged from the hallway behind Gina, likely straight from the kitchen given the apron. He was of medium height, with a build that reminded Clarke of Lincoln and a head of thick, dark hair like Bellamy’s, albeit straight instead of curly. He moved to hug Bellamy after giving them both a warm hello. Gina stopped him, pointing out the flour dusting his hands, which he wiped on the long-sleeves of his red t-shirt. What followed was an amusing interlude between the couple; Gina shook her head, reminding her boyfriend that was what his apron was for, and he reminded her that he was going to change anyway. He made a show of rolling up his sleeves, revealing rich, brown arms that were indeed built, per Clarke’s earlier assessment, before finally hugging Bellamy.

Gina turned to Clarke with a fond but exasperated look in her eyes before introducing Clarke to her boyfriend Naveed. He shook her hand with an infectious smile that she couldn’t help but return.

“I hope you’re both hungry because Naveed has outdone himself tonight,” Gina said.

“She’s exaggerating.”

“I’m really not.”

“Speaking of food, I wanted to say hi, but I need to check on dinner. I’ll be back out in a minute.”

“Could you take this with you, honey?” Gina asked, passing him the wine. He did so with a kiss to Gina’s cheek, though not without taking Clarke and Bellamy’s drink orders first.

“Let’s go to the living room,” she said, leading the way. The house had a long entryway and a bathroom to pass by before they got there, talking about the parking situation. Gina mentioned they hadn’t been aware the neighbours down the street were hosting a party that evening. At least the sound was muffled inside the house, mostly drowned out by the soft music playing from the speakers.

Clarke was just thinking that the house seemed too quiet for other guests to be there, when they reached the living room and found she was right.

“Where is everyone else?” Bellamy wondered as Clarke tried not to let her nerves get to her. Although she generally preferred her social interactions in smaller groups, there was a different kind of pressure to being alone with Bellamy’s ex-wife and her boyfriend compared to a dinner party where they were part of the crowd even if they were the hosts. She hadn’t prepared for this possibility, especially since they had been late.

Bellamy turned to Gina with a frown, and she met his gaze, appeasing. “They’ll be here soon. I actually told you a different time.”

“Because…” he prompted, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why don’t we take a seat?” she suggested.

They stared at each other for a few moments before Bellamy relented and sat on the couch. Gina took the armchair opposite him, and Clarke remained awkwardly in the doorway. Feeling superfluous to the conversation, it was only when Gina gestured for Clarke to join them that she took a seat.

She joined Bellamy on the sofa, though she kept to a separate cushion, not wanting to seem too intimate when he must have told Gina she was just his friend.

There were already some snacks laid out on the coffee table, and Clarke was tempted to reach out and sample either one of the canapes or the chips and dip just to give herself something to do with her hands.

“What’s going on, Gina?” Bellamy asked, growing serious. His hands had settled tensely on his knees.

“Don’t worry,” she said easily. “Let’s just give Naveed a minute to join us, I’m sure he’ll be back with drinks shortly. Why don’t you have some food?”

Bellamy declined, but Clarke decided she may as well. As she availed herself of the chips and dip, Clarke couldn’t work out what this was all about. She wasn’t worried that it was anything really serious—Gina looked too carefree for it to be really bad. Plus, Clarke couldn’t imagine Gina would tell Bellamy she was dying or something like that in front of her. But Bellamy was clearly confused. He was a worrier at heart, and she wanted to provide some comfort to him. However, he was so focused on Gina that Clarke wasn’t sure he realised she was still there.

Soon, Naveed returned with a tray of drinks. He set down a beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Clarke, and a grape soda in front of designated driver Bellamy. Then he walked over to Gina, handing her a tall glass that matched Bellamy’s.

Later, Clarke thought it should have clicked then.

“Bell,” Gina began softly, “I asked you to come over first because I wanted to tell you” —she paused and smiled— “I’m pregnant.”

Clarke couldn’t say for certain if the sudden intake of breath came from her or from Bellamy.

“Oh.”

There was a very long pause. As brightly as Gina was still smiling, Clarke could see she the nerves bubbling behind her eyes as she waited for Bellamy’s reaction.

Clarke turned to him and realised she couldn’t read his expression at all.

Then, suddenly, he shot to his feet and beamed. “That’s amazing! Congratulations!”

He walked around the table to hug Gina while Naveed looked proudly on.

Watching from the couch, Clarke felt very out of place. She only realised she was still holding a chip coated in dip when some of the guacamole plopped onto the floor.

Hastily, she stuffed the chip in her mouth, intending to surreptitiously clean the mess up before the others noticed. However, as she was about to grab a napkin and lean down, Naveed caught her eye from over Bellamy’s shoulder as they hugged. She stood to offer her congratulations as well, hoping she didn’t sound too garbled as she swallowed the food in her mouth.

Gina was thirteen weeks along, so they had only just started telling people. The plan was to make the announcement at dinner, but she had wanted Bellamy to know before the others. Clarke supposed there wasn’t a standard way to tell your ex-husband who you were still friendly with that you were having a baby with your new partner, but Bellamy seemed happy enough—a smile plastered to his face.

When Gina left to use the bathroom and Naveed returned to the kitchen, Clarke studied Bellamy’s profile again.

He’d leaned down to grab his drink and was taking a long swig.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He nodded immediately, though his eyes twisted evasively to the window. It was so dark she couldn’t imagine what he could see out there.

“Did you know— Did you think that might be what she was going to say?”

“No,” he admitted.

“It’s okay if you’re upset,” she said quietly.

He shook his head, turning to face her with a soft smile. “I was just surprised.”

“Okay.”

He turned to the window again, which Clarke took as a dismissal of that line of questioning. She wasn’t completely convinced, but there was something else she wanted to deal with before Gina returned from the bathroom.

Grabbing a napkin, she got on her knees and squeezed into the gap between the armchair and coffee table. Although her bare knees complained at the contact with the cold, hard floor, the fact that it wasn’t carpeted was a blessing for the purposes of covering her tracks.

“What are you doing?”

At least it was only Bellamy asking. “I spilled some guac.”

She could hear the laughter in his voice as he replied, “Already?”

Clarke glared up at Bellamy. “If you’re going to laugh, you could at least stand in front of the door and keep an eye out for them coming back.”

“I don’t know, I’ve got a pretty great view over here,” he said with a smirk, his eyes sweeping over her body.

Clarke flushed as she realised her position, on her hands and knees only a few feet in front of him.

Well, she wouldn’t be too worried he was upset about the pregnancy if he was already flirting.

Thankfully, the guacamole came off the floorboards easily and, in the absence of a bin, Clarke had safely hidden the napkin under a dish before Gina returned. Since they had arrived later than intended, it wasn’t long before the other guests started arriving. Although the guests weren’t an overwhelming crowd and everyone seemed friendly, the majority were couples, so Clarke could see why Bellamy wanted to bring someone.

One of the last of the guests to arrive was a surprisingly familiar face, who was attending solo himself. It turned out that Dr. Cillian Marks had become colleagues, and then friends, with Naveed when he changed hospitals.

Clarke was trying to make small talk with Zelda, who’d been at community college with Bellamy, and her friend Nikole when Naveed entered the living room with Cillian. Bellamy had been missing from the living room for longer than Clarke felt comfortable with by that point, and the rising anxiety distracted her from the friendly smile of recognition directed her way by the newest guest until Naveed brought Cillian over to their group.

As Clarke had just told Nikole and Zelda that she worked at the library, they naturally wanted an explanation for Cillian noting he knew Clarke from his previous hospital. They were very kind in cooing over the volunteer work she did there, but Clarke flushed with embarrassment at Cillian’s praise and the increased attention it drew from some of the other guests, distracted from their own conversations.

She relaxed somewhat when Bellamy finally returned with fresh drinks, turning the attention away from herself. However, after they all migrated to the dining table, the conversation fixed on Bellamy, apart from a brief respite to thank Naveed for his admittedly excellent cooking.

It seemed that even though half of the guests had been college friends, Bellamy hadn’t stayed in close touch with them over the last few years. Everyone wanted to know not just about his career successes, but also the salacious details of his recent very public relationship.

He took the onslaught of questions with visibly good humour, but Clarke could see the tension that lay behind it. She wondered at his so-called friends that they couldn’t recognise Bellamy’s growing discomfort. She tried to start up a few other conversations, but she wasn’t very good at small talk and only succeeded in distracting a few people, and only momentarily.

As she only needed her left hand to eat and Bellamy was seated to her right, she subtly rested her right hand on his knee, hoping it would be some comfort. Bellamy continued eating the rare mouthful he could manage between the many questions, but let his free hand to rest on top of hers, squeezing her fingers.

Their hands stayed like that until Gina suddenly stood up, claiming she had an announcement. Although the pregnancy itself wasn’t a surprise to Clarke this time around, the timing was; most people were still eating the main course. Surely, it would have made more sense to wait for the gap between entrée and dessert.

As soon as the waves of congratulations broke out, though, Clarke realised Gina could easily have had another reason for her timing. The soft, shared smile between Gina and Bellamy when the table had settled down, a new topic of conversation on everyone’s minds, confirmed her suspicion.

Although the announcement did pivot everyone’s attention squarely to their hosts, Clarke still felt wary. Bellamy may have said he was fine earlier, and he may have loosened his grip on Clarke’s hand now that Gina had come to his rescue. Which, of course, was good; Clarke was glad someone else had been looking out for him. However, he now seemed oddly subdued as the conversation turned to the pregnancy and babies in general. Though, his quieter demeanour could just be his interest in catching up on his eating, having fallen behind everyone else while answering so many questions.

Many of the guests that weren’t Gina and Bellamy’s college friends were Naveed’s doctor friends, so there were plenty of medical questions and stories to go around, but largely, the conversation was pleasant, with the parents in attendance sharing their tales.

She tried to keep an eye on Bellamy regardless, even when other guests drew her into conversation. Seated diagonally to her left, Cillian began asking her about the hospital, which led to Angie, another colleague of Cillian and Naveed’s who sat directly opposite Clarke, posing interested questions about the activities she ran. Zelda and Nikole, seated on her left were also intrigued about the program and soon had Clarke’s full attention. It was hard to balance the conversation while also surreptitiously surveying Bellamy’s mood.

Her attention was further split when Harper’s voice sounded in her head as Cillian turned his wide smile on Clarke. She supposed it was a good opportunity to study his behaviour through a lens she had never considered before.

Although they had a nice conversation as the main course turned into dessert—certainly one far preferable to the potty training stories the other side of the table seemed to be engaged in—she truly couldn’t see anything flirtatious in Cillian’s behaviour towards her. He was far more friendly towards Angie, understandable since she was his friend, but he was even more attentive to Zelda, whom Cillian had apparently never met before, than he was to Clarke.

At least Clarke could tell Harper when she saw her tomorrow that she had studied Cillian objectively when she’d been introduced as Bellamy’s friend and no flirting had occurred.

After dinner, they all moved back to the living room, and Clarke found herself in conversation with Nikole, who was a freelance journalist and had a lot of interesting stories. When the first couple left, she wondered how hadn’t noticed the time go by, but it was earlier than she expected. They had a babysitter to relieve, though, and could be excused. After they left, a few others shortly followed suit.

Amidst the goodbyes, Clarke noticed Bellamy seemed distracted. Although he nodded along in conversation with Naveed and Cillian, she suspected his attention wasn't completely there.

When Nikole left for the restroom, Clarke moved towards the kitchen so that she could walk past Bellamy. Not too close to get drawn into the conversation, but near enough that he'd notice her.

As she'd hoped, he excused himself and walked over as soon as he spotted her.

"Hey, you okay?"

Clarke nodded. "Are you?"

"I'm fine."

She didn't entirely believe it, but they were too close to other people for her to question him.

"Do you want another drink?"

Clarke pursed her lips and made a decision. "Actually, I'm feeling a little tired, so I don't think that's a good idea."

"If you're tired, then let's head out."

"We don't have to," Clarke began, but Bellamy insisted and soon they were saying goodbye to the others.

As Bellamy firmed up some plans with Naveed, Clarke took their empty glasses to the kitchen where she found Gina.

After saying goodbye, Gina wrapped her up in a warm hug. Now that the smell of the food had faded, Clarke noted how her hair smelled of strawberries. “It was lovely to see you, Clarke.”

“It was nice to see you too,” Clarke said, this time prepared for the sentiment, even if she still didn’t understand what prompted the enthusiasm behind it. “Congratulations again.”

Gina was beaming as they broke apart. “Thank you.”

“And thank you for inviting me,” Clarke remembered to say, even if it was only by way of a plus-one.

“Oh, of course. I’m so glad you and Bellamy have reconnected.”

Clarke blinked. “You are?” Gina’s words seemed completely genuine, but they took Clarke off guard. She couldn’t help speaking her response aloud.

“Of course.” Gina’s smile wavered then, as if confused.

But it was Clarke who was confused. Gina’s relationship with Bellamy had blossomed as his friendship with Clarke started to fade. Gina couldn’t know enough about Bellamy’s relationship with Clarke to have an opinion on it, especially when she hadn’t witnessed any of it first-hand.

"Bellamy mentioned you've been spending a lot of time together," she said as if that explained everything.

"Yes. It's been nice," Clarke added when Gina looked expectant. Still, she couldn't figure out when Bellamy would have told her that.

“You ready to go?”

Clarke turned at Bellamy’s voice, noting the sudden shift in tone at the tail end of his statement, begun so casually. He stood in the doorway, eyes fixed on Gina. Clarke turned back to see what he had his attention.

Gina was smiling pleasantly, but it was her hands Bellamy was starting at. Even though she had no bump to speak of yet, her hands had settled where one would eventually grow, almost of their own accord.

As soon as the front door closed behind them, Clarke detected a slight change in Bellamy. His shoulders loosened somewhat, but he also looked sad.

Clarke sidled closer to him as they walked down the sidewalk towards the car.

“Sorry I didn’t suggest we leave when the others started going,” Bellamy said. “It seemed like you were enjoying your conversation with Nikole.”

“I was. But I only came for you, Bellamy. If you wanted to leave, you should have just told me.”

His step faltered as he turned to look at her with wide eyes.

“That was sneaky,” he said appreciatively.

Clarke shrugged. “Honestly, it’s coming up to my bedtime,” she admitted. “But I’m not that tired; I just thought you might need an out.” When he didn’t respond, she checked, “You did, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” she said pleasantly. As they walked on the silence began to prick at Clarke. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Given the way his eyes were still glued to the ground, she wasn’t convinced.

“You know, it’s okay if you’re not feeling great about seeing everyone. Or,” she debated whether to push it, having asked earlier, but since Bellamy seemed insistent on bottling things up, she finally said, “about Gina being pregnant.”

He blew out a long breath.

“You must have imagined you guys would have kids together one day.”

He stopped walking then, and Clarke worried she’d said too much.

But his expression was soft when he turned to her. “Could we just sit for a second?”

She couldn’t imagine where they would sit, but she nodded anyway. “Sure.”

The houses they were walking past all had a low wall separating their front yards from the sidewalk. Bellamy walked down a bit to a house where all the lights were turned off and perched on the brick wall. Clarke took a seat next to him, unable to stop herself from double checking it all looked dark.

Their arms were touching, so she could feel the cotton of his long-sleeved shirt through the gaps in the lace of her dress. She focused on that while they sat quietly for a long moment.

“Are you cold?” he asked finally.

She was chilly without a jacket, but she shrugged, not wanting him to think they had to rush. “I’m okay.”

It felt like a while before he spoke again. “I’m not upset about Gina being pregnant.”

“It’s okay if—“

“I know. But honestly, I’m not. It’s not that.”

At least he’d made clear there was something going on. “Then what is it?”

“It just — It’s made me think about a lot of things in a different way.”

“Oh. Like, uh, relationships?” she ventured, a sinking feeling growing in her stomach. If Gina’s pregnancy had made him interested in serious commitment again, then what use would he have for a casual relationship anymore?

“Partly. More about kids, I guess.”

“You want kids.” It wasn’t a question. She already knew that about Bellamy.

“Yeah. But I always had this picture of how my life would be when I had them—married for a few years first; nice, big house; stable job—“ He turned to her with a wry smile before adding, “Everything O and I didn’t have.”

Clarke’s heart clenched at the admission, and she couldn’t stop a hand from darting forward to clutch his knee. “Bellamy…”

“I know. It’s not all essential. But that’s the idea that I had for a long time. It’s part of the reason I proposed to Gina back then. And even though I don’t think I need to have all those things now, Gina being pregnant… it just reminded me how far away I am from all that.” He let out a scoffing laugh. “I took a holiday to decide on my next career move, and I’ve spent two weeks avoiding it.”

His job was what was bothering him? That was the part Clarke would have thought came easiest. “Bellamy, I know I’m not an expert in this stuff, but I’m sure you could financially take on a child. Unless you’re blowing your pay checks on yachts or something Hollywood like that?” she added, hoping to ease the tension.

Bellamy snorted, so that worked at least. “Nope, nothing like that. And it’s not the money so much as—“ He sighed. “Filming _SPQR_ required a lot of time away from home, and a lot of the offers I’ve got to choose between are the same. I know plenty of people make it work, it’s just… It’s not the kind of dad I always wanted be,” he finished sadly.

Clarke nodded, finally understanding. She shuffled closer so she could lean her head on his shoulder in comfort, squeezing his knee again.

“You could still do all that stuff and have a kid later if that’s what you want. I mean, thirty-five’s really not that old,” she reminded him. “Especially for a guy. Look at, uh…George Clooney! He only became a dad in his fifties.”

Bellamy chuckled. “That’s your example?”

“It’s true though. You could spend the next twenty years filming all over, become the Clooney of the history world,” she suggested to Bellamy’s continued chuckles, “and settle down after if that’s what you want.”

“I guess,” he replied, non-committal. They sat in silence for a few long moments. “Sorry, I promised you a fun evening and I—“

“Don’t apologise,” she interrupted, tilting her head to look at him. “It’s a lot to think about. I mean, look at me,” she said, hoping to deflect some of the discomfort Bellamy clearly felt, “I basically settled for the first job I ever had.”

She said it jokingly, hoping to make him laugh, but Bellamy frowned instead.

“You don’t really think that, do you?”

“Well, uh… It’s definitely what my mom thinks.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “I always thought she had some odd ideas. But who cares what she thinks. What do you think? Do you like working there?”

“Yes.”

Bellamy wasn’t satisfied with her automatic response. “But really. Are you honestly happy with it?”

“It’s a lot to think about.”

“I know, but you’re not telling me you haven’t thought about it ever?”

Clarke pursed her lips. “I like most aspects of it.”

“What don’t you like?”

“Just some of the mundane tasks… You know, menial things. But every job has stuff like that.” She realised at some point his arm had settled about her waist.

His eyebrows drew closer together. “And that’s really it?”

Clarke sighed. “I guess working for Pike can be trying sometimes. He does listen to my ideas, but at the end of the day, he’s the boss and he has final say. And it’s annoying to have to work hard on things that he’s come up with that I don’t really believe in. And I want to do more things with the community, but we disagree on what that should be and how often. And if we—“

She cut herself off when she noticed Bellamy was smirking.

“How long you been keeping that in?” he asked.

“A while,” she admitted. She vented to Harper and Monty or Wells about a bad day occasionally, but only if she happened to see or speak with them while the frustration was still fresh.

“You ever given much thought to changing it up?”

“Like I said, it’s a lot to think about.”

Bellamy pursed his lips in thought. “Okay, how about we make a deal? Miller’s going back next Friday, so he’s been not so subtly suggesting I make up my mind by then so he can get started on what he needs to do when he gets back to LA.”

“Okay…”

“Why don’t we both decide by next Friday? And we can talk about what we’ll do next then?”

A week didn’t feel like enough time, especially when she’d put off analysing her situation for so long, but Clarke found herself agreeing. “Okay.”

Bellamy nodded. “That just leaves the question of how we come to a decision,” he said, pulling an exaggerated face.

Clarke laughed and turned to look out at the night sky. The music from the house party further down the road was still blaring, but it was a less urgent song now—maybe things were winding down for them too.

“Maybe we shouldn’t think about it in terms of work then,” she said, the idea forming in her mind as she spoke.

“How do you mean?”

“I mean… We just have to think about what we really want. What’s most important to have in our lives rather than in work—and then figure out how to make work fit around that,” Clarke suggested, watching the stars twinkle above them.

“Yeah.”

She glanced back to Bellamy at his darkened tone and found he was looking at her, the night sky mirrored in his eyes.

“Thanks again for coming tonight,” he said.

“That’s okay. I had a nice evening,” she replied. And it was true.

He smiled slowly at her before leaning down to her. Clarke’s eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, and she felt the whisper of his breath on her skin—

“Hey!” A gruff voice yelled from behind them.

Clarke and Bellamy broke apart as a bright light turned on, flooding the garden and the front room of the house behind them.

“What are you doing out there?” demanded the shadowy figure peeking out from behind the curtain. What they could see of his face was twisted in a scowl.

They jumped up and fled the scene as the man shouted after them.

“Did he actually say ‘get off my lawn’?” Bellamy asked in awe.

“Don’t talk, just run!”

They laughed as they ran all the way to the car, only stopping to catch their breath when they were leaning against it. It was only as Bellamy gallantly opened her car door that Clarke realised they’d been holding hands the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all she wrote for 2019! I'm going to be working on a few multi-fandom Christmas exchange things for the rest of the year so the next update for this won't be until 2020 (I can't believe I just typed that), but you can come find me on [tumblr](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/187034436148/if-the-right-one-came-along-a-bellarke-library) in the meantime.  
Thank you so much to everyone who's been following this fic, I really do appreciate all your feedback 💗 I hope you enjoyed this chapter and have a good final two weeks of the year! 😱


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you are all safe and well 💗
> 
> Most of this chapter has been written since January, but I was waiting to finish it off until I'd written more of the fic. Now the rest has been written (just needs editing and/or betaing) apart from the epilogue I'm planning on posting one a week 😄
> 
> Another song for this fic's playlist: I Like Me Better by Lauv

Saturday morning flew by in a whirlwind. Clarke barely had time to respond to Harper’s message saying she and Jordan wouldn’t be able to come for Storytime after all before she was flitting about the library, dealing with everything she’d left undone by leaving earlier than usual yesterday. Plus, she was kept busy by the usual weekend rush, patrons coming in to exchange books and use the computers and other facilities.

She wasn’t too busy to be glad when Bellamy arrived, although she could tell he seemed a little nervous.

“You know, if you’ve changed your mind, that’s okay,” she said after greeting him.

He shook his head. “No, it’s cool. Just seems like more people than last week.”

“Honestly, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll be a natural.”

Bellamy smiled faintly at the praise, though he still seemed unconvinced.

“How are you feeling after last night?” Clarke asked. She had thought he might stay over, especially considering he was coming here this morning, but although they’d had a light-hearted conversation on the drive back, he had seemed quite thoughtful by the time he’d dropped her at home. It hadn’t seemed like the right time to proposition him when he didn’t seem in the mood.

“Good, yeah.”

She didn’t have time to ask him much more; there were a few things she had to run through with him before everyone started arriving. Once they were all set up, the session started without any fuss and ran as well as Clarke could have hoped. The theme for that week was magic, so Clarke wore Frankie’s witch’s hat, while Bellamy wore the black cape and had fun with the wand.

He was much better with the kids than he gave himself credit for. They enjoyed his voices for various characters, but when his first line as the dragon in _Room on the Broom_ seemed to scare some of the younger kids Bellamy quickly toned it down, so that the dragon wasn’t too fearsome. When one little boy crawled over to Bellamy in the middle of another story, seemingly finding Bellamy more interesting than the tale, he took it in his stride, letting the boy stare all he liked as he continued reading. Clarke couldn’t help but see his interactions with them in a different light after their conversation last night.

Storytime also dragged up vivid flashbacks to running many an activity together back in the day. She and Bellamy had always been a good team, and it was comforting to see that hadn’t changed.

There were still people curious about Bellamy’s presence, but they weren’t hovering quite so obviously as last time. The only ones Clarke noticed approach him were regulars like Reese’s dad, and they talked to Bellamy like he was anyone else, which she could see he appreciated.

“I would say that was a success,” Clarke told him. They’d said goodbye to most of the visitors and were tidying up.

“I had a lot of fun,” he said with a smile, stacking up the last of the chairs. “Thanks for letting me join in.”

“Thank you for the help. Sometimes I don’t know how Frankie does it every week.”

“You won’t miss it then?”

Clarke smiled as she waved goodbye to Reese at the other end of the room before looking back at Bellamy. “Only parts.”

“What have you got planned for the rest of the day then?”

“Just work.” Clarke shrugged. “I was supposed to have lunch with Harper and Jordan again, but since they couldn’t make it…”

“Oh yeah, you mentioned. How come?”

“They’re too tired. Jordan wouldn’t sleep, and Harper was up with him most of the night since Monty had to go in to work today,” Clarke explained.

“I hope he’s feeling okay.”

“She thinks it’s just because he’s teething and it was hard to keep to their usual schedule while they were travelling. Harper was going to try to get some sleep while he napped today.” Bellamy nodded at this. “If you’re not busy, do you want to get lunch?” Clarke suggested.

“Actually, I have plans.”

“Oh.” Clarke was surprised by the disappointment that flooded her. Just because he’d been free to hang out with her the last couple of weeks didn’t mean he always would be. She’d known that from the beginning. Maybe she hadn’t known it as well as she thought she had.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Clarke said quickly, shrugging. “I just thought if you were going to be around for a bit like last Saturday, we could get something. But if you’re heading out, that’s fine.”

“Yeah, I’m meeting Naveed.”

Clarke nodded. “Cool, sure. Have fun.”

She immediately regretted sounding so dismissive. Sure, she needed to get back to work, but that didn’t mean she wanted Bellamy to think she was uninterested in his plans.

“Thanks. What are you up to later?”

“Oh, I’ve just got some stuff to do,” Clarke found herself saying. “You know, around the house...” She shrugged again and trailed off uncomfortably. _What am I even saying? _She only had the chores she’d been putting off since Bellamy arrived, nothing special. She shut her mouth before she could say anything even more stupid.

“Okay, yeah.” She couldn’t blame him for his somewhat confused look. “I’ll text you later,” he said, taking a step backwards.

Clarke nodded. “Okay. Bye.”

Work kept her busy enough to put the exchange from her mind for the rest of the morning, but once she reached the lunch break that she now had to spend solo, Clarke had plenty of time to berate herself over her lacklustre response.

So what if Bellamy had plans with Naveed? He could spend time with whoever he liked.

Maybe Clarke could have excused her jealousy if he’d said he had plans with Nikole or Zelda; they were both smart, successful, beautiful women, and they were single. He’d known Zelda even longer than he’d known Clarke. But it wasn’t like there was any danger of Bellamy being swept off his feet by Naveed. One evening had made it clear, even to Clarke, that Naveed was completely in love with Gina and excited to become a father.

She should just be happy that he had another friend to hang out with—that he got on with his ex-wife’s new boyfriend, a relationship that could easily have been awkward. And she was. In a way. But this was also a reminder that Clarke was running out of days where she could monopolise Bellamy’s time.

He’d said his agent Miller wanted his decision by next Friday. That was seven days away. If Bellamy decided his next career move by then, how much longer would he stay? Maybe just the weekend? He wouldn’t have anything to keep him here.

_Well_, she reminded herself, _he is emailing Miss Scholes about giving a talk at the middle school_. He wouldn’t leave before that, and Clarke was sure he wouldn’t schedule it for next week while Miller was here; he’d already said he wanted to show his friend around. But it could be the following week.

So, at most, Clarke had two weeks left with Bellamy. She didn’t really want to spend them feeling sorry for herself and ducking out of plans just to do laundry and boring things at home. But maybe if she slowly reduced their time together, it wouldn’t hurt quite as much when he was gone for good.

As Clarke ate the sandwich she’d bought from the corner shop and brought back to the breakroom, she tried to distract herself by scrolling through articles on her phone. It wasn’t much of a success since nothing really caught her attention.

She did smile when she got a message from Wells.

“Look what I finally started reading.” The attached picture showed him holding the copy of Bellamy’s book that Clarke had bought him back when it first came out.

She laughed and responded, “It’s about time!” even as her guilty conscience reminded her she had never finished it herself.

She was considering checking whether any of the three library copies were back on the shelf—unlikely since reservations had only increased since Bellamy’s talk had been announced, and due to the length of the book, she didn’t think most would get theirs until long after Bellamy was gone—when her phone buzzed again.

Clarke answered Harper’s call on the first ring. “Hey.”

“Oh. Hey,” Harper replied softly, almost unsure. “I wasn’t expecting you to pick up so quickly.”

“I had my phone out,” Clarke explained. When Harper remained quiet, she asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh— Are you okay to talk?”

“Of course.”

“I should have texted first, you’re at work—“

“No, it’s fine. I’m on my lunch break,” Clarke said firmly. Technically, she was due to finish her break in a couple of minutes, but she wasn’t about to tell Harper that. She had never taken advantage of being in charge by running late or taking long lunches, so she didn’t have any qualms about doing so today when Harper sounded so distressed. “What’s wrong? Is it Jordan?”

“No, he’s okay. He went down for a nap.”

“That’s good. Right?”

“Yeah.”

Harper had mentioned trying to get some sleep while he napped, but clearly something was on her mind. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I’ve, uh— I guess I’ve just been thinking about this last week.”

“About your trip?”

“Yeah.”

Fox entered the breakroom, reminding Clarke that this wasn’t exactly the place for a private conversation. She got up and headed to Pike’s empty office. “I thought you said it went well.”

“It did,” Harper said quickly. “I was really worried about Monty, but he actually had a nice time.”

Clarke pursed her lips, locking Pike’s office door behind her. “Harper,” she began slowly, “did you not have a nice time?” She tried to recall what Harper had said about their time away in their brief catchup last night. It had all been positive, even if the details had been brief. Clarke had put it down to their limited time though.

“I did,” she replied, but it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “It was just… It was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I mean, it was really nice to see Sarah. She’s lovely, and she’s so good with Jordan. Treats him just like he’s her grandson too—“ Harper cut herself off with a sob.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“No, no. Really, I’m fine,” Harper said quickly, voice tight. “Monty will be home early today. You don’t have to do anything. I just wanted to talk.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

“I just thought it would be Monty or Sarah who took it really hard you know?” Harper explained, sniffling. “I was totally prepared for what I would need to do for them—for Monty—but they were actually… Okay, not _fine_, but content to just play with Jordan and tell stories about Jasper. Like Jordan being there made it all better.”

“And how did it make you feel?” Clarke prompted when Harper grew silent.

“Sad. I mean, every day, it feels like Jordan hits another new milestone, and it’s so amazing, but,” she paused, voice cracking, “Jasper will never see any of them.”

Clarke’s heart clenched at the heartbreak in Harper’s voice.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s stupid to get worked up over now—“

“No, of course it’s not,” Clarke assured her. “It totally makes sense.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, there’ve been plenty of times when I’ve wanted to share something with my dad and I couldn’t. Nothing as big as a child, but it still hurts.”

One day, it could be that. If she had kids, Jake would never get to meet them.

She tried not to dwell on those thoughts whenever they arose, but Harper’s worries brought them right to the forefront. Clarke had to blink back tears of her own to continue, “So don’t apologise, okay?”

Harper sniffed, but her voice did sound somewhat lighter when she responded, “Okay. Thank you Clarke. Sorry to call you at work—“

“What did I just say about apologising?” Clarke interjected, earning a laugh.

“Right.” She took a deep breath. “It think it must be the lack of sleep. I just started spiralling, and I didn’t want to unload on Monty.”

Clarke frowned. “How do you mean?”

“It’s always been so much harder for him. He and Jas were practically brothers even before I met them. He’s handling it much better this year, though, and I didn’t want to bring him down.”

Clarke hummed, debating her response. “Well, I’m always here if you want to talk,” she said. “But I don’t think you should keep it from Monty, either. He’d want to be there for you the way you’ve been there for him.”

“Yeah.” Harper sighed. “You’re right. Thanks Clarke.”

“Anytime.”

Clarke had stopped carrying her phone around with her at work after her father died, but today she decided not to put it away, just in case. Work kept her busy throughout the afternoon, and she mostly forgot about its weight in her pocket. But an hour before the library closed, she was heartened to see a message from Harper, checking in and thanking her for earlier.

“Of course,” Clarke typed back quickly before adding in a second message: “I’m free tomorrow if you want to meet up.”

It wasn’t long before Harper’s response arrived. “Thank you—Monty’s off so I think we’re just going to have a quiet family day. But let me know when we can see you next week. Jordan’s been missing his Aunty Clarke! 💗”

The message was followed up by a photo of Jordan on his play mat, the octopus toy Clarke had bought him a few months ago bunched in one hand while he reached for a block with another.

She smiled fondly at the photo, but felt a weird pang in her chest at the message. She knew Harper didn’t mean the family comment in an exclusive way—she was _Aunt_ Clarke to Jordan after all—but at the same time, it reminded Clarke of what she didn’t have. Her mom and Wells were her closest family, but seeing them required lots of planning.

She’d had plenty of quiet Sundays over the last year—it wasn’t as if she was eating up all of Harper and Monty’s weekends—but the only time she’d spent one with someone else was last week with Bellamy.

Bellamy who had not tried to get in touch with her since leaving the library that morning.

Not that she blamed him after her awkward send-off.

Clarke replied to Harper and then stared at the last text she had from Bellamy. He must have sent it once he’d gotten back to his place after dropping her home last night, though she hadn’t seen it until she woke up that morning. He’d simply thanked her for coming to the dinner with him. While she’d considered it unnecessary, especially since he’d thanked her a few times by then, but there was something about him committing the words to text that made her smile. Perhaps it was the additional effort to let her know it had meant a lot to him.

Or perhaps it was the fact that he’d signed the text “B”. She should have teased him about signing off that way, but the reminder of their notes to each other in the library stirred up too many fond memories for jokes.

She knew she could text him to ask about tonight. But he _had_ said he would message, and she didn’t want to seem needy by texting him first. Maybe he’d decided to spend more time with Naveed. Maybe he had work to do.

Clarke exited the conversation and went instead to the one with her mother, since she’d never replied to the job link she’d received the night before. She told Abby that she would have a look at the job later (her usual response even if it was only sometimes true) and then asked how she was doing.

For good measure, she also opened the text chain with Raven and sent a similar message checking in with her as well. Clarke winced at the date of their last messages, but they’d both been busy, Raven especially.

She pocketed her phone after that. After all, she was at work and shouldn’t be wasting time debating whether or not to text a certain someone. Clarke even managed to stick to that up until the library closed and Sheila approached, something clearly on her mind.

Since Pike wasn’t in, Clarke could use his office to complete her paperwork, but she preferred to work out in the open when the library wasn’t too busy, and it almost never was late on a Saturday. So, she looked up from the computer at the circulation desk to see Sheila buttoning her coat as she rattled through her update.

“I also added a few things to lost property, a shawl and a notebook.”

“Thanks Sheila.” Clarke nodded absently, thinking that was the end of the conversation, but Sheila hovered, uncertain.

“Perhaps while you’re here tonight you could take a look.”

Clarke frowned. “Why? Is something wrong with them?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Sheila looked torn. Finally, she said, “There’s a jacket in there that might be of interest.”

“If there’s a wallet or ID inside bring them through and we’ll try to contact the person,” Clarke replied, clipped. Sheila had been volunteering long enough to know the procedure.

“I meant it might be of interest to _you_.” Clarke stared in confusion until Sheila sighed. “I found it last week,” she said leadingly, though Clarke still had no idea what she was driving at. “It’s a navy jacket.”

“Oh.” Clarke sucked in a breath, her cheeks heating up. Her lost blazer.

No wonder she hadn’t been able to find it at home. She must have left it at the library that night she came with Bellamy.

The following day had been her day off too. Pike would have been the first one in the building, but Sheila was always the first to the kitchen, where Bellamy had teased Clarke about getting territorial over mugs, if she was there in the morning.

But how did Sheila know it was hers?

Seeing the unspoken question on Clarke’s face, Sheila filled in, “Vera asked me to join the Watch a while ago, but I can’t do all that walking with my knee. Instead, I make hot cocoa for them when they go past my house. Last week when I went out to see if they were on the street yet, I couldn’t help but notice two people trying to get into the library.”

Clarke flushed. She had forgotten how close Sheila lived even though it was part of the reason she was usually happy to volunteer, even at short notice.

“I was going to investigate, but when I realised it was you,” she continued, “I assumed it was fine. But then I saw your jacket in the kitchen the next morning and the mugs on the draining board, even though I had emptied it at the end of the day. You weren’t in, and when I realised it must not have been…” Sheila searched for the phrase before settling on, “a _professional_ visit, I thought you might not want me to return it to you. I had hoped you would see it in the lost property.”

Clarke cleared her throat. “Thank you, that’s… very considerate. And thank you for not saying anything to Pike.” There was no way the man wouldn’t have commented if Sheila had done so. Since her entire face was still red from mortification, Clarke continued, “We didn’t really do anything—“

“Oh,” Sheila said with a wave of her hand. “I was young once. You don’t need to tell me about it, I only wanted to make sure you got your jacket back. That is, I assume it’s yours and not Mr. Blake’s. Both your jackets looked dark on the street, but this one seemed too small to fit him. He’s very broad-shouldered, isn’t he?” she added, her eyebrows raised pointedly.

A laugh spilled out of Clarke, partly from the situation and partly from discovering her co-worker was much more open minded than she had given her credit for. And shrewder too. Sheila had seen them together at the café, but she had never let on that she knew who Bellamy was. “Yes, I suppose so,” Clarke said, somewhat shyly.

Sheila’s eyes glimmered. “He seems like a nice man.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Well, good,” she said with a smile. “It’s about time you had someone special.” Sheila patted her hand and walked off.

As she watched Sheila’s retreating back, Clarke unexpectedly felt the prickle of tears. She’d always argued against the assumption that she needed to be with someone to be happy, especially when her mother brought the subject up in their phone calls, but she couldn’t deny it had been nice having someone—having Bellamy—to spend time with lately.

And for all her mindless chatter, Sheila never said things like that. It was oddly touching to know that Sheila, who Clarke wasn’t even particularly close to, was supporting her in her own way.

Clarke wasn’t deluded enough to think she could keep Bellamy forever. So what was the point in wasting time they did have by playing it cool?

Clarke took her phone out of her pocket and stared at it. Still no message, but something made her take what felt like the crazy step of going to the phone app.

Even twelve years ago when Bellamy had been her best friend, she had never called him on the phone. This way, though, she wouldn’t have to sit stewing and wait for him to respond. And now that she was the only one left in the building, she didn’t have an excuse of waiting any longer.

She took a deep breath as it rang. It went on for so long her stomach started sinking, but just as it was about to stop and kick in to voicemail, he picked up with a breathless, “Clarke?”

“Hi, Bellamy.”

“Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m good,” she said nervously. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.”

“I was just calling ‘cause… I wondered if you want to do something tonight. It’s the last weekend of the food festival. We could go?” she let out all in a rush.

“Oh.” He hesitated. “I’d actually rather not go out tonight.”

“Okay, sure,” she said quickly. “Do you want to do something else?” In the silence that followed Clarke’s heart dropped. “Or not. You probably have other plans.” Her face burned, but before she could end the call, Bellamy spoke up.

“No, I— It’s not that—“ He stopped and groaned before sheepishly admitting, “It’s really embarrassing.”

Clarke frowned. “What is?”

“The reason I can’t go out.”

“What’s the reason?”

He sighed before revealing mournfully, “I went to the gym and did something to my back.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped open in surprise. In all her worrying, she’d thought she was the problem, never Bellamy. She certainly never imagined he might be hurt. “Are you okay?”

“It’s not that bad, I just—“ She could hear the pout in his voice as he explained, “I’m basically lying on the floor until it feels normal again.”

“The floor?” she repeated with a frown. “Have you been to the doctor?”

“Naveed was there, but he said it wasn’t serious. Just told me to get some rest.”

Clarke blinked. She had assumed Bellamy’s plans with Naveed had been getting lunch, not hitting the gym together. The wheels started turning in her mind. “Bellamy,” she began, “please don’t tell me you hurt yourself trying to do something stupid like out bench Naveed.”

“I didn’t,” came his too innocent response.

“Really?” Clarke demanded, still suspicious.

“I didn’t try to out bench him,” he insisted. He waited a beat then added, “I just tried to do a few too many reps on one of the other machines.”

“Because Naveed could do more than you?” Clarke guessed.

Bellamy remained silent.

“Bellamy,” Clarke groaned, putting her head in her hands. Still, an amused smile spread across her face.

“I know, I know. I’m an idiot,” he sighed.

“A big idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“What have you been doing since you got home from the gym?”

“Honestly? I fell asleep,” he admitted. “And now I’m just lying on the living room floor.”

“Are you sure that’s sensible?”

“It’s what helped the last time I fucked up my back.”

Clarke let out an amused scoff. “And who were you trying to outdo that time?”

“No one,” he said defensively. “I had just turned thirty-five and pulled a muscle getting out of bed.”

Clarke laughed. “I’m serious, Bellamy.”

“I wish I wasn’t!” he replied, making her giggle again. “Laugh it up now, but in five years, trust me, you’ll see.”

Clarke shook her head, still amused, until a thought came to her. “Wait, have you eaten anything since you got back?”

“Sort of.”

“Okay, I’m coming over,” Clarke said, guessing the truth behind his hedging. She stood right up before coming to an abrupt halt. “I mean, if it’s all right with you.”

“I’d love to see you,” he said easily. “But I’ll be a terrible host.”

With the blush on her cheeks, humour was her only defence. “You always are.”

He snorted. “Geez, thanks.”

There were only a couple of things that couldn’t wait until she was back in on Monday, so Clarke sorted them out and locked up as quickly as she could. She only stopped in at her house long enough to change into a sweater and jeans before driving over to Bellamy’s. She was halfway there before she realised she hadn’t gone to the lost property to get her blazer back, but it would keep another few days.

“Bell?” she called out as she knocked on the door.

From inside the house, came his reply: “It’s open!”

Clarke was barely through the door when she stopped in her tracks. Even though he’d told her he was on the floor, seeing it for herself only increased her concern. He was sprawled out on the floor behind the couch, his long limbs filling the space. He looked embarrassed more than anything else when he laid eyes on her, though there was an unmistakeable wince on his face when he began tilting towards her. “Bellamy!”

“I’m fine,” he insisted as she pushed the door shut and rushed over.

“You don’t look fine,” she pointed out, settling down on her knees by his head.

“When it feels bad, I just do this for about twenty minutes and it helps,” he said. His smile looked more boyish from this angle, even if it was somewhat strained.

“Have you taken any painkillers?” Clarke asked. Gravity kept pulling her hair to fall in front of her face, but she’d been in such a rush leaving the house, she hadn’t stopped for a hair tie. She had to settle for sweeping it over one shoulder.

“That stuff doesn’t tend to work on me.”

Clarke bit on her lip. “What about ice?

“It’s really okay, I’ve sprayed it. I’m sure it’ll pass in another ten minutes.”

“Okay,” Clarke said, biting her lip. “Just tell me if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will. Thanks for coming over,” he said, his brave smile softening. “It’s really nice of you.”

“I’m happy to.”

“I know, but I feel bad keeping you from stuff just to help me out.”

“What stuff?”

“You said you had stuff to do.”

“Oh, right.” Clarke nodded quickly, trying to cover up her momentary confusion. “Yeah, but that can wait. Just odd things around the house. You want to tell me what happened at the gym?” she added, only partly to change the subject.

His eyes darted to the ceiling, clearly embarrassed. “Like I said. I was an idiot.”

“I thought you said you were okay with Gina being pregnant,” Clarke began.

“I am,” he said firmly.

“And yet you tried to one up her baby daddy in the gym?” she replied, making him snort.

“I could do that many reps when I was in LA,” he argued. At Clarke’s look he relented, “Well, I wasn’t far off. If I’d kept up going to the gym, it would have been fine.”

“You’re on holiday, you’re allowed to take a break. And you’ve still been going for runs,” Clarke remembered. “You’ve been exercising more than _I_ have. And I don’t have the excuse of a vacation.”

Bellamy frowned, looking over at her. “You don’t have to exercise if you don’t want to.”

“I know I don’t,” Clarke agreed sagely. “So why aren’t you taking your own advice?”

He let out a half laugh at that, looking away again. Clarke shifted, stretching her legs out to sit more comfortably as she waited for him to reply. 

“I got into a weird headspace with my body and working out in LA,” he said finally.

Clarke frowned, but she had heard enough comments on her own body over the years to know better than to cut in.

“When the show took off, so many of the comments were about how I looked,” he continued, still looking away, “that part of me wondered if that was the main reason they picked me for the show.”

“Bellamy.” She couldn’t help the soft utterance that left her lips, just like she couldn’t help but scoot closer to him, wanting to offer what comfort she could.

He tilted his head to lean against her knee, a wry smile on his face. “I started working out a lot more at first, until I realised it was too much for me. But when I was dating Echo, and seeing the guys she worked with, I fell into the same bad habit for a while. I took a break from the gym on purpose when I came here, but I realised I did actually miss going, I just needed to figure out the right amount. I thought going with Naveed wouldn’t be that stressful, but…” Bellamy trailed off, finally making eye contact.

It took Clarke a second to realise she had started playing with his hair as he spoke. “Sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back to her lap.

“That’s okay,” he said. “I liked it.”

“Okay.” Clarke brushed away the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes and resumed running her fingers through his curls. “I’m sorry it was stressful. And that you’ve been going through all that. I didn’t know.”

“I hadn’t told anyone. I think Miller might have noticed, but it’s really easy for him to stay in shape, so I didn’t really want to talk to him about it.” He sighed. “I know that sounds weird.”

“No, I get it. I used to feel the same way, always comparing my weight to Harper or Raven but never talking to them about it.”

Bellamy frowned. “You don’t need to compare yourself to anyone. You’re gorgeous.”

Clarke flushed at the praise, but it fed into her point. “I could easily say the same to you, but you’re the one who needs to feel comfortable with yourself.”

Bellamy studied her, tilting his head into her palm. “When did you get so wise?”

“I don’t know actually,” Clarke said. “I guess I told myself I shouldn’t care what other people thought about me when I came back to Arcadia so often that eventually it became true for everything.”

“Well, you might not care, but I think you’re amazing.”

Her hand stilled in his hair. Her instinct was to argue, but the way he looked up at her, his gaze soft but focused, certainly made her feel pretty amazing.

Before she could think of how to respond, there was the tell-tale sound of a phone vibrating against a hard surface nearby.

“I think that’s my phone behind you.”

“Oh, right.” Clarke reached behind to pick it up for him. She saw the text notification was from Nathan Miller, the preview starting with a flight number. “Here you go,” she said, handing it over and removing her hand from his hair. She came over to make sure he ate, not to cuddle, she reminded herself. Quickly getting to her feet, Clarke headed to the kitchen.

“Do you have stuff for dinner or should I go get something?”

“I should have enough,” Bellamy began.

When he paused, Clarke looked over her shoulder to find he was struggling to sit up, so she went back over to him.

“I can manage,” he said, already using the side of the couch to stand, though he still accepted her help.

“You should just rest, I can handle food.”

“Like I said, it comes and goes. I’ll help you get started.”

“Okay. But if you need to lie down or anything, just tell me.”

“I will.” He smiled at her softly. “Thanks again,” he said, holding his arms out.

Clarke stepped into his embrace, fitting her face against his neck. “You’re welcome,” she said, hugging him back tight.

Just for a moment, she let her herself pretend she wouldn’t have to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! You can find me on tumblr [here](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/187034436148/if-the-right-one-came-along-a-bellarke-library).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all keeping well in these strange times!  
Thanks to everyone still reading this fic, it's always great to hear your thoughts 💗

By the time Tuesday rolled around, Clarke was so nervous, anyone might have thought she was the one giving a talk that evening, not Bellamy. 

There was nothing to be nervous about really, but still, she’d been anxious all day. Maybe longer even.

Clarke had felt a little down on Saturday night, the discussion of his agent Miller’s impending visit serving as a reminder of how little Bellamy-time she had left, but she’d managed to push that aside long enough to enjoy a cosy evening with Bellamy. She’d even slept over, but as she hadn’t taken an overnight bag, they drove to her place Sunday morning. His back had felt better, but he hadn’t wanted to do anything too strenuous, so they’d just chilled out all day together, their time mostly spent in the bedroom or the kitchen and living room.

As darkness fell, she’d playfully suggested he stay until Monday morning, but Bellamy had said he needed to tidy up the place and get supplies before his guests arrived. Miller’s boyfriend Jackson had managed to get the time off to join him on the trip; Bellamy sounded happy about it since Jackson had become a friend too, but it made sense he had more to sort out with an additional guest. He’d then floated the idea of her meeting up with them for dinner after work, but he was so obviously just being polite that she’d turned it down.

She did want to meet Bellamy’s friends—even if they would be taking him away from her shortly—but it felt best to let them have Monday together first. Anyway, she’d see them at tonight’s talk.

Knowing that, Clarke probably should have been more prepared to meet them, but she was still startled when she looked up from placing the sandwich board with posters for the event on the sidewalk to see Bellamy leading two unfamiliar men straight towards her.

Bellamy gave her an all too brief hug, pulling away to let Miller and Jackson shake her hand as he introduced them.

“It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Good to meet you,” Miller returned.

“Yeah, it’s a crazy coincidence,” Jackson began, his smile growing wider, “but I know your mom.”

“Oh?” Clarke glanced from him to Bellamy, surprise in her eyes.

Jackson then explained he was a doctor and had been in Washington before he moved to LA. Sure enough, he had been based at the same hospital as Dr. Abigail Griffin.

“Wow.” Clarke laughed. “That is a crazy coincidence.”

“Yeah. Abby was such a great teacher, so inspiring,” Jackson gushed.

Clarke nodded, hoping her smile didn’t seem too forced. “She loves being a doctor.”

“You can really tell. It must be hard living so far away from her.”

Not wanting to get into the particulars of a tricky relationship with someone she’d known for five minutes, Clarke replied, “We manage to see each other pretty regularly.”

“How’s everything been here?” Bellamy asked, peering inside the library. It was after their usual closing time, but in light of tonight’s event, they had decided not to close to visitors until just before the talk started. There were still a few people browsing inside. “What can we do to help set up? Do the chairs need putting out?”

“Yes, but Pike would never let _you_ do that.”

“I’ll have to let him know that you had me doing hard labour two Saturdays in a row,” Bellamy said with a smirk that made Clarke laugh.

She was about to tease him right back, but she happened to glance back and noticed Miller and Jackson smiling at the exchange. She sobered.

“Why don’t we go inside?” Clarke suggested. “I’m sure Pike is dying to show you around.”

This was absolutely true; the men barely had time to leave their things and cases of Bellamy’s books in the back room before Pike was giving them a tour. As Clarke and Bellamy had seen it all before, they ended up loitering at the back of the group, while Pike explained things to Miller and Jackson.

“Weird, huh? About Jackson working with your mom?” Bellamy whispered, an amused smile on his face.

“Really weird,” Clarke agreed. “How did you even figure out the connection?”

Bellamy shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly. I was talking about you, and I guess I must have mentioned your mom being a doctor. Jackson said he knew a Dr. Abby Griffin from when he was in Washington. It sounded too similar to be someone different.”

“Oh.” Clarke bit her lip. She stared at Pike for a minute as he talked about their children’s area, but she wasn’t really listening. “You were talking about me?”

Bellamy glanced down at her like he didn’t understand her interest. “Well, yeah. They wanted to know what I’d gotten up to since I’d been back, so…”

Clarke nodded quickly, looking away. “Right.” Of course she would feature in Bellamy’s stories about the last two weeks. That was a given. It didn’t mean anything special. “You know, I better get back to getting things set up.”

Bellamy frowned. “Is there a lot left to do?”

“No, but I don’t want to leave it all to the last minute.”

“Well, if you need a hand—“

“No, no. You’re our special guest,” Clarke said brightly. “And Fox will be here soon, so— I’ll see you in a bit. Good luck!” she added before slipping away.

Clarke knew she wasn’t acting rationally, angling for more time with Bellamy one minute and distancing herself the next.

It was just a difficult situation. One she’d gone and made more complicated by sleeping with him. Except sleeping with Bellamy felt anything but complicated. They shouldn’t have fit together so easily after so long, but just because it was easy didn’t mean it would last. In fact, it wasn’t supposed to last. They had both been clear from the beginning that this was a friends with benefits situation with a time limit, and that was fine. Clarke could deal with that.

What she had realised over the course of another lazy Sunday with Bellamy, followed by a Monday of not hearing from him at all, was that she couldn’t deal with losing her best friend again.

The thought of going back to not seeing Bellamy all the time hurt. More than she expected it to. She wanted to believe that because they’d reconnected so quickly and easily, they wouldn’t let their friendship die out a second time. For her part, Clarke knew she would try a lot harder; she wouldn’t let things get in the way of maintaining that friendship, even long-distance. Yet, she still wasn’t sure how Bellamy felt. Would he want to make the effort? It would be just another thing on his plate between filming or press tours all over the world. Would he even have time to think about Clarke in her small town?

As much as she’d yet to come to a decision about her career, like she and Bellamy had discussed, one thing she had decided was that she didn’t want to leave Arcadia. She liked her life here. She loved her friends, she loved volunteering at the hospital. Even on the most frustrating days at her job there was always something good – and often it was the people. Maybe some might think it was boring or strange to live in the house she’d grown up in, but she really liked that house. It was her home.

As the early comers started to trickle in, Clarke noted she recognised many of them. Which was another thing to like about her town: an actual sense of community.

When someone she knew better than the rest turned up, Clarke went over to greet him before he could get settled.

“Hi, Lincoln. I didn’t know you were coming to this.”

He shrugged. “I was curious. Bellamy always was a good orator; even when he was trying to convince me not to date his sister.”

Clarke laughed. “You should give his agent that quote.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Good. You?”

“Yeah, same old.” Lincoln hesitated before asking in a lower tone, “You met up with Bellamy since the café?”

“Yeah,” Clarke said slowly, her response made uncertain by Lincoln’s apparent awkwardness. “A bit.” Three out of five days, she silently corrected. Today didn’t count since this was a work event.

“No one’s bothered you again, have they?”

“Oh.” Clarke softened, realising Lincoln’s concern. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “They haven’t. I thought it might happen tonight, if anything, since the event is public, but Bellamy’s agent is here. I’m sure he’ll know how best to deal with them if they show up.”

Lincoln nodded. “Good, I’m glad. But let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” Clarke said with a grateful smile. “Thanks again for dealing with that, by the way.”

“Of course. It wasn’t a problem.”

Lincoln took off his jacket, which made Clarke realise she should probably leave to let him get settled. Even though there was still plenty of time before Bellamy was due to start, he’d want to get a seat before more people arrived, and she still needed to do a final check that the table was set up correctly for the signing later.

Instead, Clarke asked, “Hey, do you know the Trikru gallery?” She was fairly confident in his answer; Lincoln was interested in modern art, and it was the only modern gallery in the region, but she needed to work up to her actual question.

Lincoln nodded. “Yes, I like it there, though I don’t get to visit as often as I would like to.”

“Same here. Did you hear about the latest collection opening next month?”

“Yes, I get their newsletter. It looks interesting; Anya’s work always is.”

“True, but I don’t really have anyone to go with,” Clarke said. “Would you like to go with me?”

Lincoln smiled. “I would like that.”

“Cool.” Clarke grinned, genuinely happy. Even if she couldn’t keep Bellamy around, it never hurt to make new friends. They wouldn’t replace him, but it would be nice to have someone else to hang out with. “Well, it’s not for a while yet, so we don’t need to make plans yet or anything, I just wondered…”

Lincoln nodded. “I’m sure I’ll see you around before then to confirm the details.”

“Yeah.” Clarke laughed.

“Clarke!” Pike bellowed from a distance.

She turned to see his head poking out from behind a pillar, gesturing for her to come over.

“Duty calls,” Clarke said, making her goodbyes to Lincoln and walking over to her boss.

“Everything all right?” she asked when she saw his furrowed brows.

Like her answer could resolve a life or death situation, he asked, “Do we have almond milk?”

It wasn’t quite the last question she might have expected, but it certainly hadn’t entered her brain.

“Err…” Clarke began, surprise preventing her from providing a more coherent response.

“It’s okay, I can have it black!”

Looking over Pike’s shoulder, Clarke saw Jackson a few steps from the kitchen, an apologetic look on his face. Bellamy and Miller were nearer to the door, both clearly trying and failing to hide their amusement. 

“Don’t worry,” Pike said, glancing back at Jackson. “Fox can go out and get some. Clarke,” he added, turning around to her, “can you let Fox know?”

“It’s really fine,” Jackson insisted.

Refraining from pointing out that Fox had more important things to do, Clarke instead replied sweetly, “Is oat milk okay? Frankie normally has that.”

That option seemed to relieve both Pike and Jackson, so it was lucky Frankie had a spare in the cupboard.

Clarke figured she could always replace it for her without Frankie even realising, except the woman herself arrived unexpectedly ten minutes later. Apparently, she’d heard about the event when she’d returned from her holiday yesterday and hadn’t wanted to miss out. When Clarke told her the story though, she was happy to have helped satisfy tonight’s “celebrity entourage”. They only managed a few minutes of catching up before Clarke was darting about again, taking care of a few last minute preparations. Aside from a group of college students, most of the visitors were familiar faces, including Miss Scholes from Madi and Charlotte’s school, though there were a few unexpected ones too. Clarke gave a harried wave to Zelda and Nikole from Gina’s party.

Sometimes Clarke emceed these kind of events, but Pike had wanted to lead this one, and Clarke was happy to leave him to it. She didn’t want to risk getting unexpectedly emotional trying to introduce Bellamy.

And so, she got to hover at the back and lean against the wall to watch, joining in with the applause as Bellamy took his place at the microphone.

“Hi, everyone. Thanks for coming out tonight,” he greeted with a wide smile, somehow managing to scan the crowd and make everyone feel like he was talking directly to them. “I’m so happy to be here. This is a place that’s really special to me. As some of you know, I used to work here, and it’s great to be back and see how much it’s changed. One constant is, of course, Clarke Griffin.”

Clarke instantly felt her cheeks heat, her heart suddenly beating faster. He hadn’t said he was going to mention her. Why was he mentioning her?

“She might not have been Senior Librarian back then,” Bellamy continued jovially, only briefly meeting her gaze, “but she always kept me in line.”

There was a smattering of laughter from the crowd, and a few people glanced back at her with smiles on their faces. She tried not to shrink from the attention and keep her professional smile on. Her heart rate settled as Bellamy shared a few amusing anecdotes from his time at the library, earning a few more chuckles. That was all it was; just some funny stories that their regulars would enjoy.

As he segued from his past at the library to talking about history and the book itself, Clarke admired the unaffected way he spoke, charming the crowd in a different way than he had on Saturday, tailoring his approach for the very different audience.

Miller and Jackson took pictures intermittently, and Clarke was grateful she’d taken a post at the back. If she was caught in the background of any, she would look like a lovestruck teen mooning over a tv heartthrob.

She supposed both those things had been true in a way, at one point or another.

Not, of course, that she would say _love_. She loved Bellamy as a friend, of course, which made things a little more blurry now they’d started sleeping together. But she didn’t have those kinds of feelings for him.

After the talk, as Bellamy signed books for most of the audience, Clarke began tidying up the seating area while Pike and Fox handled organizing the crowd into an orderly line. A few people, including Sheila and Lincoln, bid Clarke goodbye as they left, but no one stopped for a chat. Not until Nikole came up to her.

“Sorry to bother you while you’re busy,” Nikole said after they’d exchanged greetings, “but I was hoping to get in touch with you about a piece I’m hoping to write.”

“Oh? Do you want to write about the library?” Clarke wondered. They sometimes worked with press on specific events, but no one had published anything on the library itself since the big refurbishment work was completed a few years ago.

“Actually, I would like to do an interview. With you.”

Clarke had been stacking chairs as they talked, but she stopped now. “Why?” she said, unsure of what else to say.

“I’m writing a series of profiles on successful women from a wide range of industries; my editor agreed to keep it local for this edition. I’ve got a few people on board so far, and they’re all great. Do you know the artist Anya?”

“Yeah,” Clarke said, her mouth slightly agape. “You’re interviewing Anya?”

“Yes,” Nikole replied with a wide grin, clearly pleased. “She’s definitely my biggest get so far. I’d been speaking to Luna who owns Trikru Gallery to get her for a profile, and she helped me secure Anya as well.”

“That’s amazing,” Clarke replied, genuine. She would love to read a profile on the usually tight-lipped artist.

“Are you interested?”

“In reading their profiles, sure,” Clarke said. “But I’m not on that level.”

Nikole was not content with that answer. “The profiles aren’t about comparing anyone; I want to write interesting stories—and you definitely have that.”

Clarke wasn’t convinced. “Me?”

“Sure; local girl who left for the big city but came back to revitalise the library into an important centre for the community? Plus your work at the hospital? That’s a story worth sharing. You’d be a great role model.”

Clarke paled. “I’m not— I don’t really see myself that way.”

“I know it can be hard; a lot more people feel like that than you’d imagine.” Nikole reached into her purse and rummaged around. “Here’s my card, we can discuss it in more detail when you have more time. Just consider it, okay?”

Clarke hesitated but took the card. “Okay.”

It was strange to picture herself as someone worth interviewing, as a role model. Clarke wasn’t sure how she felt about it. But if she stopped thinking about it, she’d just start worrying about Bellamy or her future career path.

The interview seemed like the lesser evil. It certainly occupied her enough while she tidied up that she didn’t hear anyone approaching until Bellamy’s sharp knock on the kitchen door made her jump and drop the fistful of spoons she was holding into the sink.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Nothing’s broken,” she said, picking them back up to finish washing them.

“How’s it going?” he asked. “I feel like I hardly saw you tonight.”

Clarke glanced up from the sink with a smirk. “Hard to see anyone amongst all your admirers.” She was only half teasing; the group of college students—female and male—had noticeably lingered while getting their books signed.

Bellamy tried to roll his eyes, but his slight blush showed he was still somewhat at a loss with his current level of fame.

“Did you have a good night?” Clarke asked.

“Yeah. It was kind of weird, I’ve done so many of this kind of thing now, but there was something different about doing it here.”

“Different in a good way?”

“Yeah, definitely. Still tiring, though; I wanted to show Miller and Jackson around Polis a bit today but maybe tried to fit too much in.” As if on cue, he yawned.

Clarke tried but failed not to respond with a yawn of her own. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah. I was going to ask if you wanted to get a drink with us, but I’m actually pretty beat.”

“That’s okay. Maybe I could meet you after work tomorrow?” Clarke offered. Her only plans were to call Wells, and they hadn’t set an exact time.

“Actually, we’re going to do some sight-seeing around the other towns tomorrow; I don’t think we’ll be back until late.”

“Oh, okay.” Clarke tried not to show her disappointment. She knew this would happen. It was fine.

“But, hey, what about Thursday? Unless you already have plans for your day off?”

“It’s my volunteer day at the hospital,” Clarke reminded him. “And I’m going to Harper and Monty’s for dinner after.” She supposed she could ask them to rearrange dinner for a different evening, but she wanted to catch up with her friends. She hadn’t seen Monty in weeks, since before Bellamy arrived.

Plus, Clarke didn’t want to be one of those people who ditched plans with their friends when they started seeing someone; especially not when that someone wasn’t going to be a long-term boyfriend.

Bellamy nodded his understanding. “Okay sure. I guess I’ll call you after they’ve gone back on Friday? We’ll get to tell each other about,” Bellamy paused and quickly glanced down the corridor to check they weren’t about to be interrupted, “our career plans.”

“Right. Friday.” Clarke nodded.

“Any progress on yours?”

_Not really,_ was the honest answer. She knew she wanted to remain involved with the community, and the library was pretty great on that front. Was it just itchy feet after being there so long, or was she too scared to leave?

Even though she had decided not to let other people judge her, was she judging herself for having stayed?

This wasn’t the time for that discussion, so she just said, “Still thinking about it. You?”

“Trying to sort some details out with Miller while he’s here, but yeah, I—“ Bellamy smiled, more confident than Clarke felt. “I think it’s going to work out.”

Clarke did her best to return his smile. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later then.” Bellamy straightened so he was no longer leaning on the frame. He tilted forward as if readying to come in for a goodbye.

At that moment though, Clarke didn’t want him to hug her. She remained stock still, her hands still covered in suds in the kitchen sink. She sounded almost mechanical as she murmured, “Good night.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment, but then he just nodded. “Good night.”

She nodded, returning her attention to the sink without waiting for him to leave. Clarke did her best not to analyse her complicated reaction to his departure as she got on with the rest of her tasks, her determination helpfully speeding up her productivity.

It wasn’t long before the library was empty, save Clarke and Pike. She neatly arranged the books left over—some people had brought their own, and Bellamy had signed and left the remainder for the library to sell—while Pike gave the main room a final look over, ensuring everything was back in its place for opening tomorrow. She returned his small talk with as much polite chatter as she could muster considering her mind was fully occupied elsewhere.

Until, at least, Pike said, “I think tonight was a fitting last hurrah.”

“Huh?” Clarke turned away from the books to stare at him in shock. “What do you mean?”

He smiled. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re what? Pike, you — Have you got another job?”

“Not yet. It’s Janey.”

His daughter? “I thought you said everything went well with her visit.”

“It did. But it made me realise that if I want to be a part of my grandchild’s life in the way I wasn’t when Janey was young, I’d have to make some changes. And since Janey has no intention of moving away from California…”

“Wow.” If he’d simply said he’d gotten another job in Arcadia, Clarke might have thought he’d reconsider with enough persuasion. But this was such a big step for such a personal reason, she couldn’t see him changing his mind. Pike must have been thinking about this for a while. “We’ll be sorry to see you go.”

Part of her felt disingenuous for saying it when she had only just complained about working with him the other day, but it really was true. As much as they disagreed at times, Pike had done a lot for her and the library, and she had learnt a lot from him.

“And I’ll be sorry to leave,” he replied with an easy smile. He looked at her knowingly before adding, “But it makes me easier to know I’ll be leaving it in such capable hands.”

_Oh_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moodboard for this fic is [here](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/187034436148/if-the-right-one-came-along-a-bellarke-library) on my tumblr. Feel free to hit up my ask box if you're so inclined 😄


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a couple of chapters left after this! Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy the update 😎  
Stay safe everyone 💗

“Clarke! That’s amazing!” Harper grinned and got up from her seat to hug her friend.

It was Thursday, and Clarke had driven over to the Green-McIntyre house after her volunteer session at the hospital had ended. As Jordan was down for a nap and Monty not yet home from work, the two women were catching up in the living room. Harper clearly was thrilled to hear that Pike had recommended Clarke take over his position at the library.

“It’s not guaranteed,” Clarke added as they hugged. “I’d have to interview for it—if they even want to consider me. The board might want to bring in someone new.”

Harper made a face as she settled back on her side of the couch. “That would be stupid. That place wouldn’t run half so well without you.”

Clarke smiled easily. “You just think that because you’re my friend.”

Harper shook her head, reaching for the chips they were snacking on. “No, everyone knows that. I mean, when I go to the Mecha library and they need to contact Arcadia about something, they say, ‘Let me just check with Clarke.’”

“That’s because it’s my job to handle a lot of the inter-branch stuff,” Clarke explained.

“Maybe, but I still think you’re under-selling yourself. What?” Harper added, frowning.

“Nothing,” Clarke replied. She took a handful of chips and started munching.

“No, that was definitely a ‘something’ face. Is it about work?”

“It’s just—“ Clarke stopped, flushing a little. Harper’s comment had reminded her of Nikole’s proposal, but she didn’t intend to talk about that today. She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to do the profile, and with Pike’s news following so soon after, the potential job had been in her mind a lot more than a potential interview.

“I suppose it just feels a little… convenient?” Clarke said finally.

Harper laughed. “_Convenient_?” she repeated. “After how hard you’ve worked? For _years_?”

Clarke ducked her head at the praise. “It’s the timing of it, really. I’d only just started thinking about whether I wanted to pursue something new, and then suddenly, here’s a big opportunity that might be exactly what I want. It’s weird.”

Harper’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t know you were thinking about other options.”

“I’ve thought about it idly before, but Bellamy and I were talking last week about career stuff, and it just made me start thinking more seriously about it.”

“And had you thought of anything else before Pike spoke to you?”

“Nothing specific. Now that Pike’s leaving, I feel like—“ Clare shrugged. “I don’t know, I figure I should see how this goes before I make any big changes. If I don’t get the position, then I can look elsewhere. Or, if I still feel this way even when I’m in charge, I can always start thinking about a new job then.”

Harper nodded.

“You don’t think that’s lazy?” Clarke asked. “Last week I said I would have made a decision on my career by tomorrow, and now I’m saying I’ll put a pin in it.”

“No, it’s not lazy. Trying to think about this stuff is really hard,” Harper said sympathetically. “I told myself I’d think about my career long-term while I was on maternity leave, which has definitely not happened, and now I’m going to be back at work in a month anyway.”

“Already?” Clarke said. “That’s come around quick.”

“I know,” Harper said. She frowned before reaching for more chips.

“How do you feel about that?”

Harper sighed. “Not great, to be honest. I’m still trying to pretend it’s not happening. We’ll get back to me in two weeks when I freak out and call you crying in the middle of your workday again.”

“Harper,” Clarke said gently, leaning forward to give her knee a squeeze. “I already told you, don’t worry about that. You can call me anytime.”

“I know.” Harper smiled softly, squeezing her hand back. “But I wasn’t kidding, I really don’t want to think about it, so let’s get back to you. How did you end up with this deadline?”

“It’s Bellamy’s deadline,” Clarke admitted. “His agent goes back to LA tomorrow, so he had to make a decision by then. I said I would make some decisions too.”

Harper nodded. “Do you know what Bellamy is deciding?”

“No, I haven’t seen him this week aside from his talk at the library on Tuesday.”

“I wish we could have gone. Two of the moms at yesterday’s baby group went, and they said he was really good.”

“Yeah, he was,” Clarke said, her lips tugging into a smile of their own accord. Hearing Bellamy talk about history had made her want to pick up his book again, even if she would have to start from the beginning. She should have ‘borrowed’ one of the copies left at work since she still didn’t know when Charlotte would finish reading hers.

“How have things been with the two of you?”

Harper’s question brought Clarke out of her thoughts. When her attention returned to her friend, Clarke noticed Harper’s gaze seemed sharper than before.

“Good,” Clarke said, breezier than she felt.

“Do you know when he’s going back to LA?”

“No. But it’ll be soon,” she said, somehow maintaining the same level of cheer. “He only came for a break while he decided on his next career move, which he’ll have done by tomorrow. He’s going to the middle school next week, but I can’t imagine he’ll hang around long after that.”

“And how do you feel about him leaving?”

“Fine.”

“Clarke,” Harper said pointedly, clearly not buying it.

Clarke reached for the chip bag to buy herself some time, but it was disappointingly empty. She sighed. Finally, she said, “I’m obviously sad he’s leaving, but I always knew it was going to happen. And it’s not like we won’t be friends after he’s gone.” She bit her lip before admitting one troubling thought, “I suppose I am a little concerned about how that’ll go after last time.”

“You mean when you left for college?”

“Yeah. We were so close, but once we were apart and our lives got busy, we just let our friendship slide until we stopped speaking completely.” Clarke worried at her fingers. “Maybe I’m a bad long distance friend.”

“It takes two people to let go of a friendship,” Harper said gently. “I’m sure you weren’t the only one to blame. Anyway, that was a decade ago. People change.”

“I know, but I’m not sure I’m a great long distance friend now, either. Raven and I used to be so close, but we hardly talk now.” On Monday, Clarke had received a response from Raven to the text she’d sent on Saturday, and they’d sent a few messages back and forth checking in since. But though both had said they should arrange a call to catch up properly, nothing concrete had emerged. 

Harper looked sad at Clarke’s comment, glancing away before responding, “You’re not the only one having trouble getting a hold of Raven.”

Clarke frowned. “Oh? I thought you and Monty heard from her more regularly.” She hadn’t taken it personally; she’d noticed the difference more once Jordan had been born when Harper and Monty naturally had a lot more to share.

Harper shrugged. “Yeah, I send her Jordan updates, and she usually replies, even if it’s just a short message. She sends him plenty of gifts and stuff—which is so generous and we’re so grateful,” Harper added before stopping abruptly. “But I don’t want her to send Jordan toys, I want him to _know_ her.” She sighed, trying to let go of some of the tightness that had built in her voice.

Clarke blinked in surprise. She’d never heard Harper talk like that before. “I didn’t know you felt like that.”

“It’s been on my mind more recently. Thinking about Jasper dragged it up,” Harper replied. “I know we’re all busy, and it’s hard living so far away, but it sucks that she hasn’t even met him yet.”

Clarke nodded sympathetically. “What does Monty think?”

“He wants her to come visit too, but I don’t think it annoys him as much. But he and Raven were always closer, so— I suppose he just gets it. He can be really focused like her when he’s got an important project at work.”

“Have you talked to Raven about it?”

Harper shook her head sadly. “Whenever I asked her to come visit, there was always an excuse not to, so I just stopped bringing it up. I mean, I know it’s her dream job and everything, and that’s great, but…”

“I haven’t been able to get her on the phone for a while, but I’ll mention it next time I do,” Clarke said, trying to think of a solution. “Wells manages to see her sometimes, maybe I could ask him to bring it up?”

“You don’t have to do that. That’s not why I mentioned it… I guess I just needed to whine,” Harper said with a sad smile. “Sorry. I don’t want to be the friend that complains about our other friends behind their backs.”

“You’re not,” Clarke reassured her. “You’re allowed to be annoyed if someone’s not making an effort with you.”

Harper nodded. “You’re allowed to be annoyed too, you know.”

“I know,” she said, even if she’d never really thought about it until then.

“Anyway, you mentioned your friendship with Bellamy. You haven’t been thinking about anything else with him?” Harper said leadingly.

Clarke was amused by this very obvious hint. “I told you, we were always a casual thing.”

“Sure, because taking your friend with benefits to your ex-wife’s dinner party is totally casual.”

Clarke was ready to demur as usual when Harper’s comment sparked a different thought. “Oh! I meant to tell you; you remember when you said Cillian was flirting with me before? Dr. Marks from the hospital?”

“Yeah?”

“It turns out he works with Gina’s partner Naveed. He was at the dinner party.”

“Oh!” Harper looked excited.

“We talked a lot, and he definitely wasn’t flirting with me.”

“Well, I guess he has had a while to get over your rejection,” Harper joked.

“There was no rejection!” Clarke exclaimed. “He never asked me out.”

Harper’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What exactly did you and Dr. Marks talk about?”

“Mainly hospital stuff. The museum a bit since his brother works there.”

“One-on-one or part of a group?”

Clarke thought about this. “Mostly part of a group, I guess.”

“And was Bellamy also part of this group conversation?”

“Not really. He was next to me at the dinner table, but he was talking to other people.”

“Hmmm.” Harper nodded. “And is it possible he might have thought you were there as Bellamy’s girlfriend? I know,” she added before Clarke could interject, “you just went as friends. But don’t you think there was room for misinterpretation?”

“I mean…” Clarke hesitated before admitting, “I guess he might have seen our hands—”

Harper gasped, a hand flying to her chest. “Clarke! I was just going to tease you about playing footsie or something! You actually held hands under the table? That is so cute! And,” she added, growing serious, “definitely not something you do with your casual fling.”

“We weren’t holding hands,” Clarke argued when she finally managed to get a word in. “I was just trying to comfort Bellamy. He was stressed.”

Harper softened and looked at Clarke considering. “That’s very nice of you, but... you know that’s not really casual either, right?”

“We’re _friends_.”

Harper sighed. “Okay.” she said, holding up her hands.

Clearly, Harper wasn’t remotely convinced, but her attempt at explaining was disturbed by the sound of Jordan waking up from his nap.

The interruption was a welcome one for Clarke, partly because it distracted her from the niggling thoughts Harper’s questions had raised, but also because it was always nice to see Jordan. Once he was fed and less grumpy about being awake, Clarke gave him the bib she’d bought at the museum the previous week, which delighted Harper more than the baby, and the three of them settled onto the floor in Jordan’s play area.

That was where Monty found them when he arrived home, carrying the first two of many bags from his grocery run on the way back from work. He paused for a few minutes to greet everyone, but soon had to return to his car for the rest of the bags. Clarke was quick to reassure Harper that she was fine keeping an eye on Jordan for a few minutes so she could help Monty unload, but had to rethink that confidence when Jordan let out a little cry as Harper stood to leave.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Harper cooed, bending down to offer Jordan one of his many brightly coloured building blocks. That seemed to distract him enough to stop his tears. “Mom and Dad will be back soon,” she said, giving his hair a quick kiss while he was still studying the orange cube in his hands before dashing off.

Torn between keeping Jordan entertained and not drawing his attention to the fact that it was just him and Clarke, she decided to move more of the blocks towards him. She started playing with the blocks herself, idly chattering to him as she stacked.

This worked fairly well, Jordan picking up and discarding different blocks while Clarke built a tower. A happy Jordan was far preferable to a screaming one, but his contentment unfortunately let Clarke’s thoughts stray towards Harper’s prodding about Bellamy.

He had messaged her a couple of times yesterday with pictures from his sightseeing tour with Miller and Jackson. She was glad he’d had fun, but part of her lamented the lost time with Bellamy. She was trying not to dwell on it, though; if she couldn’t deal with not seeing him on a regular basis now, when he was still in the area and likely to see her this weekend, how could she manage when he was back in LA?

That pitiful thought was interrupted when Jordan cried out, apparently having noticed the absence of his parents.

Trying to comfort a distressed infant was not exactly a relief, but at least it was a problem Clarke could actually solve.

Harper’s trick of offering him another block didn’t work, so Clarke decided to offer him her creation instead. His cries halted and he seemed interested, so Clarke helped him hold it in both hands to examine it more closely.

It wasn’t long before Monty returned, having changed out of his work shirt and trousers into jeans and a more casual shirt. 

“Hey, everyone okay?” he asked, sitting cross-legged beside Jordan. “Harper’s just putting stuff in the fridge.”

“Yeah, I think we’re good,” Clarke said with a smile, pleased she had managed to calm Jordan herself.

Jordan dropped the tower as soon as he realised his father had returned, crawling over to burrow his head into the crease of Monty’s elbow and making both adults laugh.

Monty picked him up effortlessly, situating the infant in his lap. Once Jordan was settled with one of his cups, he looked back at Clarke, saying, “I feel like it’s been ages since I saw you.”

“I know,” Clarke agreed, glancing up from reassembling her tower. “Harper said work is calming down for you now?”

“Yeah, thankfully. Sounds like I’ve missed a lot with you, though.”

“Harper already told you about the job?” Clarke asked. It seemed a strange topic of conversation to have come up in the short time Monty and Harper had been away.

“You have a new job?” Monty said, surprise ringing through his voice so clearly that even Jordan looked up from chewing his cup. “I was referring to the new boyfriend. New job and boyfriend? You really have been busy.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what Harper said, but Bellamy is not my boyfriend. And I don’t have a new job,” she said, explaining the situation with Pike.

Monty was similarly assured of Clarke succeeding Pike in his role as Harper had been. “You must be a lock for his job.”

“I don’t know,” Clarke said, embarrassed by her friends’ certainty. “I’m going to try for it, but we’ll see.”

“Thank you,” Monty said in response to Jordan who had just offered his father the cup that had been in his mouth. “You’re pretty drool-y today, aren’t you?” he observed, looking at the saliva on the cup and Jordan’s shirt. Jordan seemed to find this amusing, grinning before he crawled out of Monty’s lap. “I hope it works out,” Monty told Clarke. “And what about Bellamy?”

“We’ve been hanging out a lot, but— Oh, thank you,” Clarke said. Jordan had just offered her a new cup.

“How come I get the one that’s been drooled all over?” Monty joked.

“Perk of being a parent.”

“You’re telling me.”

Jordan sat in between them happily chewing a new cup of his own.

If Clarke thought Jordan’s antics were going to save her from Monty’s line of questioning, she was sorely mistaken. He prompted her to finish what she’d been saying about Bellamy.

“It’s only a casual thing,” Clarke said. “We’re friends with benefits.”

“Okay, but Harper and Jordan both liked him a lot from what I’ve heard.”

Clarke smiled. “He’s easy to get on with—when he wants to be,” she added, recalling his younger, pricklier self. “I imagine you have to be charismatic to become a popular television personality.”

“Effortlessly charming and good with children? Who would want to date someone like that?” Monty teased.

Clarke rolled her eyes again and cocked her arm to throw the block in her hands at Monty before she remembered she should be setting a good example for Jordan. “You are very lucky your son is here.”

Thankfully, Monty dropped the subject in favour of catching up more generally when Harper joined them. Of course, Clarke couldn’t help but notice a lot of her answers to his questions about what she’d been up to since she’d seen Monty last involved Bellamy. Just like she couldn’t help but notice certain pointed glances from Harper to Monty, but he didn’t comment on it.

Their conversation moved on to less Bellamy-focused topics when they relocated to the kitchen to start making dinner. Clarke acted as sous chef while Monty and Harper took turns between leading the food prep and keeping Jordan entertained. When Jordan needed a diaper change, though, Harper disappeared upstairs with him, leaving Clarke and Monty alone in the kitchen.

“So, you doing anything this weekend?” Monty asked, stirring the sauce on the hob.

“Aside from work on Saturday, I’m not sure actually,” Clarke said, focused on her chopping. “Frankie’s back, so I won’t have to do the kid’s Storytime.”

“No plans with Bellamy?” he asked.

His tone didn’t betray any hidden meaning. And Clarke supposed he had just heard all about how she’d spent her last few weekends with Bellamy, so it was an easy assumption to make. But her skin pricked anyway, Monty’s question an unwelcome reminder that it wouldn’t be a sure thing for much longer.

“We haven’t made any. We were going to talk tomorrow night after his friends have gone, so maybe. Probably,” she admitted. Laughing when she realised how that sounded, she added, “He doesn’t really have anyone else to hang out with until he goes back to LA.”

Monty nodded again, looking thoughtful as he stirred the sauce. Clarke waited for him to comment on their arrangement as Harper had, but instead, he simply said, “And you guys are just friends with benefits—like you and Niylah.”

“Yes, exactly,” Clarke said immediately, glad he was getting it. She and Monty hadn’t been close while she’d been sleeping with Niylah, but he’d heard about her.

“And you and Niylah ended your arrangement because she met someone she really liked, right? Someone she wanted to be her girlfriend, for real?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, forget about Bellamy going back to LA,” Monty said with determination. “He’s not going back that soon, right?”

“Well,” Clarke began, confused, “not right away, but—”

Monty barrelled on, “If, the next time you saw Bellamy, he told you what Niylah told you, would you be as okay as you were then?”

Clarke felt her blood run cold.

She had been so focused on the fact that because Bellamy would eventually be leaving, they could never be anything long-term. The possibility that he might not want to keep seeing her because he’d met someone else hadn’t even entered her mind.

She most definitely would not be okay with that.

_Fuck_.

She was an idiot.

Monty’s serious look softened as she met his gaze with watery eyes. “Clarke?”

“I…” She inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. “I think I have feelings for Bellamy,” she admitted quietly.

There, she’d said it. She liked Bellamy. A lot. Maybe she even loved him. But the thought of saying _that_ out loud made her throat close up.

However, her face must have made such a sorry picture that Monty got the message loud and clear.

Letting go of the wooden spoon, Monty stepped away from the stove and pulled Clarke into a hug. Clarke tried and failed to hold back a sniffle as she buried her nose in his shoulder.

“I’m such a mess,” she said woefully.

“No, you’re not,” Monty said reassuringly, one hand rubbing her back. “You’re just too good at everything else. You had to be bad at relationships to make the rest of us feel better about ourselves.”

Clarke let out a burst of laughter, but she didn’t step out of the hug, instead sighing at her own stupidity.

“Well, we decided to change since someone had drooled all the way—“ Harper’s bright declaration ended abruptly as she stepped into the kitchen and laid eyes on them. “Hey, what happened?” she asked, concern clear in her voice.

Clarke smiled weakly at the sight of Jordan in Harper’s arms, sporting the new bib she had bought him over his fresh top, but it was Monty who explained, “Clarke has feelings for Bellamy.”

Harper’s concern melted away, though it was replaced with a look torn between sympathy and amusement as she said, “Well, I did try to tell you.”

* * *

What was she supposed to do now?

Admitting that she had real feelings for Bellamy was a huge step. She hadn’t felt like this about anyone in a long time. Possibly not ever. She’d been in love, sure, but this was different than what she had felt before. This was the kind of feeling you had about someone you knew better than anyone else—someone who knew you better than anyone and still cared about you. Because she at least knew that even if he didn’t return her feelings, Bellamy still cared a lot about her.

But what did it change?

Her physical relationship with Bellamy—however she defined it—could only ever be temporary.

As much as Clarke loved her friends, a part of her was annoyed that they had forced her into an epiphany that would only lead to heartbreak when she and Bellamy said goodbye once more.

She had managed to perk up enough for the rest of the evening to enjoy her time with Monty, Harper and Jordan, but when she got into her car, she couldn’t escape her thoughts of Bellamy and how he’d affected her life.

He hadn’t just wreaked havoc on her emotions. She’d had so much catching up to do the previous night, having neglected menial tasks like dusting and laundry in favour of spending all her free time with Bellamy. She hadn’t even thought about her latest painting in days, despite her genuine intention to continue it. She’d even had time for it on Monday night; all she’d done was sit around feeling sorry for herself for spending the night without Bellamy, even if she hadn’t realised that was what she was doing at the time.

When she arrived home from Harper and Monty’s, she found Bellamy had sent her a text. It was perfectly friendly, asking how things had gone at the hospital and about her meal with Harper and Monty.

She didn’t know how to answer such a light text in her mood. She ended up leaving it until just before she went to bed, replying that it had all gone well, and she hoped he had a nice day with his friends too.

Clarke managed not to check her phone when she woke up in the middle of the night, but she was disappointed to find on Friday morning that all he’d sent her was a polite reply, saying it had been good. She purposely hadn’t asked for details about his day; she shouldn’t be so down that he hadn’t supplied any.

She decided to busy herself with work, going so far as to ask Pike for more to do, despite having a full day already. He thought she wanted to show her dedication for the potential promotion, so he eagerly gave her additional tasks, more than enough to keep her plenty busy.

When she finally checked her phone at the start of lunch, she had a message from Lincoln to let her know the ceramics she and Bellamy had glazed had been fired and were ready to collect. It was good to know, but not conducive to her current state of mind.

Putting her phone away, Clarke took her lunch to her desk and worked while she ate. She resolved not to look at it again until she got home, a decision she almost kept to until an hour before closing.

One of Pike’s tasks had taken her to the store cupboard where they kept lost property, reminding Clarke she had never retrieved the navy blazer that Sheila had so helpfully kept there for her. It was starting to smell a little musty, but she still held it close to her on instinct. The memory of that night out with Bellamy was precious to her, even if it would soon become painful.

She took the blazer, not wanting to forget it again, and in tucking it into her handbag, she noticed the notification light on her phone. Her traitorous heart started beating faster at the sight of Bellamy’s name in the message preview, but she frowned in confusion when she realised the message wasn’t Bellamy himself.

It was Wells.

She clicked on it right away to read the whole thing, but that didn’t clear anything up.

**Wells**: _I finished reading Bellamy’s book and I’m confused. How can you still insist he forgot about you?_

Clarke’s stomach started swirling.

**Clarke**:_ What do you mean? _

He didn’t reply immediately, so she put her bag away but kept her phone with her. It wasn’t technically an emergency, and she didn’t have pockets in her blouse or pencil skirt to keep it discreetly, but she had to know.

She’d just returned to her desk when a reply arrived.

**Wells**: _It’s literally there in the book._

**Clarke**:_ What’s in the book??_

**Wells**: _You haven’t seen it?_

**Clarke**:_ WHAT IS IT_

Clarke could have screamed.

**Wells**: _Read the acknowledgements._

**Wells**: _You really haven’t seen them?_

Clarke thought about it for a second. She’d seen the dedication at the front to his mom and sister, but no acknowledgements.

**Clarke**:_ I don’t have my copy. Send me a picture_

**Wells**: _I can’t, I left it at my desk after lunch. I’m on my way to a meeting in another building now._

**Wells**: _Don’t you have it in the library?_

She darted to the history section, phone clutched tightly in her hand and hoping she didn’t look too frantic, only to confirm that there were no copies on the shelf. It was what she had expected, but it felt like another blow.

When she glanced back at her phone, there was another message, somewhat unhelpful.

**Wells**: _Sorry, I just assumed you had seen it._

Clarke took a deep breath to steady herself.

Which was when she remembered the copies left over from the talk. Clarke headed to the front desk where they had been displaying them. Fox was currently manning the desk, and Clarke arrived just as she waved goodbye to a visitor.

“Hi, Clarke,” Fox said brightly.

“Hi,” Clarke replied, more shortly than she usually would. “Where are the copies of Bellamy’s book?” She glanced over the desk, hoping in vain to spot some kept aside.

“They all sold. Was I not supposed to sell them all?” Fox asked tentatively at the look on Clarke’s face. “Pike said—“

“Yes, that’s fine. I just thought we had some copies left,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

“Well, I’m sure he would sign a new copy for you,” Fox suggested, woefully misunderstanding Clarke’s intention. “You’re friends, aren’t you?”

“I just wanted to check something in it, that’s all,” Clarke explained. “It can wait.” Every fibre in her being was screaming that it could not wait.

She didn’t understand. How could there be something in the book that made Wells think of her?

_Maybe it isn’t a big deal,_ she tried to reason with herself. Maybe Bellamy had referenced his time working at the library or something in the acknowledgements, just like he had at the talk—

Fox interrupted her train of thought, suggesting innocently, “Why don’t you check a library copy then?”

“They’re not on the shelf,” Clarke said, turning away.

“There should be one on reservations. I just put it out an hour ago,” Fox explained. “Unless it’s already been picked up—”

“Thanks!”

_It would be just my luck if it has been collected already_, Clarke thought, even as her legs took her to the unit as quickly as she could.

Her breath caught in her throat when she spotted the thick tome.

Ignoring the note they put in all the reserved books clearly stating it was only to be removed from the shelf by the requestor, Clarke pulled Bellamy’s book off the shelf and flipped straight to the back. Skipping over the picture and short biographical blurb, she flipped backwards through a lengthy index. Once she made it past the index and then the citations, Clarke seemed to be in the book content itself. Frowning, she flicked forward impatiently to find the conclusion of the book was indeed followed by an acknowledgements section.

She held her breath as she skimmed down the page, her stomach starting to sink as she read the words. He started off with his family before going on to people from college, Miller and his publishers. There was a message for every person or group, about how they had helped make the book become a reality, mostly for people she had never even heard him mention. Realising it went on for another page she turned it over, prepared for disappointment.

Clarke had only scanned halfway through the page when her eyes caught on the very last line.

_C— You were the first person to tell me my writing would be published someday. Thank you for believing in me before I believed in myself. I never would have gotten here without knowing you. _


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys, hope you're all keeping well ❤︎ 
> 
> We're nearly at the end! The song for this chapter's playlist is Scarecrow by Alex & Sierra.

“Clarke? Clarke?”

It took a small hand shaking her elbow for Clarke to tear her eyes away from the book in her hand. Charlotte and Madi stood next to her, carefully neutral expressions on their faces.

“Hi, girls,” Clarke said with false brightness.

“Clarke, are you okay?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, ignoring the crack in her voice.

The girls did not look any less worried. “You’re crying,” Madi said quietly.

Clarke touched her free hand to her face and realised there was indeed a tear on her cheek. “Oh, just something in my eye,” she replied. “How are you both? What are you here for today?”

“We’re just picking those up.” Charlotte pointed to the bottom of the reservations shelf where some comics waited. Clarke moved out of the way so she could reach them.

“How was school?” Clarke asked brightly.

“Fine,” Madi said uncertainly.

“We’re all excited about Bellamy Blake’s visit next week,” Charlotte added as she straightened, comics in hand.

It was clearly said to steer the conversation in a pleasant direction, but Clarke couldn’t help the way her face crumpled at the mention of Bellamy.

Madi and Charlotte shared an uneasy look, both plainly at a loss for what to do.

“Sorry, I have to go,” Clarke blurted. “Nice to see you,” she added as if that could salvage this encounter.

In no time, Clarke had sequestered herself in the staff bathroom, still clutching the book to her chest. Turning so her back was against the door, she opened the book again, going straight to the second page of acknowledgements.

It was still there. She hadn’t dreamed it.

_C— You were the first person to tell me my writing would be published someday. Thank you for believing in me before I believed in myself. I never would have gotten here without knowing you. _

_Seeing those words was overwhelming. _She had spent so long believing that she was the only one who’d felt the loss of their friendship. Despite the easy way they had fallen back in sync, having this proof that she had meant something to Bellamy was so much more concrete.

They hadn’t spoken for years by the time the book came out. There was no reason for him to acknowledge her for appearance’s sake. But just as he had inspired her to take the leap into returning to college, she had apparently helped him at an important time in his life.

Clarke scrunched her eyes shut to fight back a fresh wave of tears. She couldn’t let history repeat itself. No matter where he went, she wouldn’t let Bellamy disappear from her life again.

“Clarke?” Fox’s soft voice called from behind the door. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!”

“It’s just Charlotte and Madi thought something had upset you. And I found your phone on the floor.” Clarke cringed as Fox paused, clearly concerned. “Did you get some bad news?”.

“No, no. Everything’s fine.”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, but—“

Fox was interrupted, but not by Clarke. The sound of Pike’s voice carried down the hall, and Clarke grimaced, annoyed that she was drawing so much attention to herself.

From behind the door, she could only make out murmurs as Fox and Pike spoke to one another, but less than a minute later, Pike asked, “Clarke? Are you okay?”

“I’m just not feeling very well all of a sudden,” Clarke finally said, deciding it was the safest explanation. “It’s only a headache. I’m sure it’ll pass.”

“You should go home.”

“No, it’s okay,” Clarke said, feeling increasingly silly. “I just need a few minutes.”

But Pike insisted that she go home. Her protests that there wasn’t much time left on her shift only added weight to Pike’s counterargument, that they could manage without her for an hour. Fox offered to stay later than usual to help Pike close in Clarke’s stead, and Pike reminded Clarke that she hadn’t used any of her sick hours for the year.

Their kindness made her feel worse, but she eventually agreed, though not before insisting they give her a few minutes rather than wait for her to emerge.

Her mascara had thankfully withstood the couple of tears that had fallen down her face, and it didn’t take long to pat her cheeks dry. She still took her time in exiting the bathroom, hoping a few deep breaths would help her seem somewhat composed.

She managed to return Bellamy’s book to the reservations shelf as well as retrieve her bag without incident but couldn’t escape interaction entirely; Fox still had her phone. At least her “headache” provided enough reason not to say much other than thank Fox for covering for her before she left.

Clarke walked home, turning her phone in her hand and debating what she could say to Bellamy.

She knew she had to tell him the truth. And, after all this time, she didn’t want to put it off for another day. But this wasn’t a conversation to be had via text or a phone call.

When Clarke reached her front door she stared at it for a long moment. Then she turned and went to her car instead.

The drive to Bellamy’s place in Polis seemed to take forever, made worse by the downpour that broke out when she was what should have been ten minutes away, forcing her to slow to a crawl.

How awful would it be to end up in an accident on the way to confess her love?

At least it gave her time to go over her words in her head; everything that Bellamy meant to her, past and present. How much she wanted him to be a part, no matter how small, of her future.

She wasn’t foolish enough to think a relationship could truly be on the cards, but at least she would know she had been completely honest with him.

When Clarke pulled into park she checked her phone and found several notifications from Wells, apparently panicking over her lack of response to his last message. Since he had been the one to set this endeavour in motion, she owed him a response at the very least. She was in too much of a hurry for it to be a long one, though.

**Clarke**:_ I saw it. Wish me luck._

She didn’t have her umbrella or coat with her, just the navy blazer that wouldn’t give her much protection in this weather. It wasn’t far to go, so Clarke made a break for it. In less than ten steps she was at the front door, knocking urgently.

And then waiting.

She repeated the action, harder this time and could hear it reverberate despite the loud patter of rain in her ears.

Rain that had already soaked her hair and was making good headway into her clothes. She tried to stand as close to the door as possible, but the overhang wasn’t wide enough to provide much protection from this storm.

Using her free hand to wipe the rain from her eyes, Clarke glanced around and suddenly registered that the car Bellamy had rented was not parked in the driveway or in front of the house. Nor did it seem to be anywhere nearby on the currently quiet street.

It struck her that having purposely not communicated with Bellamy much over the last few days, she had no idea what his plans were for today. Miller and Jackson were heading back to LA; she knew that much. But she couldn’t recall Bellamy mentioning a flight time. Maybe he was taking them to the airport. Or maybe their flight wasn’t for a while yet, and they were all out for dinner.

Clarke let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. What had she gotten herself into?

She could text or call to ask Bellamy what time he’d be home, but that didn’t mean he’d answer right away. And it left her in the weird situation of either standing around in the rain or sitting in her car while she waited for him.

She was drenched already—taking cover in her car would only serve to get the car wet rather than keep her dry, but at least she could turn on the heaters. Unable to help feeling like her grand gesture was turning into a big flop, her shoulders slumped as she made her way back to her car, holding her bag above her head to help her see properly when a familiar vehicle came down the road.

Clarke blinked to make sure she wasn’t just willing the sight into existence, but sure enough, it was Bellamy’s rental car. In only a few moments he pulled into the driveway.

“Clarke?” he exclaimed over the downpour as he jumped out the car and raced to her. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t give her a chance the respond before leading her back towards the front door, which he hastily unlocked.

He ushered her inside, where she shivered despite her relief at not being rained on anymore.

Clarke dropped her bag to the floor as Bellamy removed his dark jacket. He turned to her as if to help her do the same, only to realise she wasn’t wearing one.

Her vision was somewhat blurry, but she could see the frown on his face. “Let’s get you some towels,” he said, putting a hand on her back and leading her towards the bathroom.

“It’s okay,” Clarke argued weakly. She tried to find that fire that had brought her to his door, recall the words she’d been running over in her mind, but her teeth were too busy chattering to let any speech out.

He met her protest with a serious look. “You’ll catch a cold.” Pulling some clean towels off the rack, he draped the largest around her shoulders. “Did you bring any clothes?” he asked.

Clarke shook her head, holding the towel close. 

“I’ll get you some to change into,” he said, handing her a smaller towel and disappearing before she could argue.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror, Clarke grimaced. This was what the phrase ‘drowned rat’ had to refer to. This time, her mascara had not fared so well, and her hair hung limply to her shoulders. Clarke wiped her face clean before she started patting her hair with the towel.

It wasn’t long before Bellamy returned. Now that water wasn’t collecting in her lashes, she could see he wasn’t completely unscathed by the rain. Unfairly, the few droplets that clung to his hair only served to enhance his curls.

“I think it’s a bit warmer in the bedroom,” he said, taking her hand to lead her through. Clarke let herself enjoy the feeling of his large palm engulfing hers without complaint, not least because it was so much warmer than hers. “Are those okay?” he asked, gesturing to the sweater and loose jogging pants he’d laid out on the bed.

“Yes. Thanks.” Clarke opened her mouth to say something more, maybe start to explain herself, but she shivered again.

Bellamy frowned. “I’ll go turn the heat up.”

“You don’t—“

He left before she could finish her protest.

Clarke stripped out of her clothes and patted her skin dry as best as she could when it felt like her heart was beating a mile a minute. The image of Bellamy opening the front door so she could say her piece had lodged itself in her mind on her drive over. Now that it hadn’t happened the way she’d imagined, she wasn’t sure how to begin anymore. She certainly couldn’t run off easily—as she’d planned if he rejected her—now that she was changing into his clothes.

He had to care more than just a little to be fussing over her like this.

Then again, this was probably something Bellamy would do for any close friend.

But at least that meant he wanted to keep being friends after he went back to LA. She could live with that.

The grey sweater was soft and snuggly against her bare chest. It was bigger than her size, but in a comforting way. The navy sweatpants, however, were awkwardly large, and Clarke had to fold the waistband over a few times to keep them up. They still hung too low on her waist, but the sweater hid that. She felt better in dry clothes, apart from her slightly damp panties, but asking for a pair of his boxers felt too intimate, especially before the conversation they needed to have.

She had returned to patting her hair dry by the time Bellamy returned. She had assumed that he’d simply been waiting to give her time to get dressed, but her heart twisted when she saw the steaming mug he brought with him.

“I got you some tea. It probably needs to cool for a minute, though.” She thought he was going to put it on the side table nearest to him – the one she was currently standing in front of – but instead, he walked around the room and placed it on the other one.

_Because that’s the side I always sleep on when I stay over_, she thought, her eyes watery again. And he was acting like it was _hers_. Like she belonged here. With him.

“Bellamy…” she began, her voice breaking.

He looked up from setting the cup down, his brows furrowed at her tone. “Do you want coffee instead?” he offered.

“No.” She shook her head. Clarke held the small towel in front of her, bunched up between her hands, as she struggled to find the words.

“What is it? Did something happen? Is that why you came over?” he asked, taking a step towards her before realising the bed was in the way.

“No, everything’s fine, I—” Clarke swallowed. “I’m sorry to just show up like this. I should have checked first.”

“That’s okay,” Bellamy said, a gentle smile on his face as he came toward her, this time skirting the bed . “I was going to call you when I got in anyway. I just dropped Miller and Jackson off at the airport.”

“Did they have a good trip?” she asked, trying and failing to sound casual.

“Yeah. But, Clarke, please tell me what’s wrong.”

Clarke chewed her lip. “I’m in your book.”

It wasn’t the answer he was expecting; Bellamy stopped, still a few feet away from her.

He looked too confused to speak, so Clarke continued, “In your acknowledgements.”

“Yeah, I know. Wait, did _you_ not know?” When Clarke shook her head, he frowned and said, “I thought you said you’d read it.”

“I did,” she said automatically. “I just didn’t finish it.”

She felt awful as Bellamy’s face dropped in disappointment. “You didn’t like my book?” he asked, voice quieter than before.

“I did like it,” she argued, even as he tried to level her with an unimpressed look. “I _do_, it is really good. I just— You know how I struggle to read non-fiction!” she finished with a pout that drew a sharp laugh from him.

“Yeah, I guess I did know that.”

“I’m sorry I never finished it. And that I acted like I had.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. We’ve always been honest with each other, but I wasn’t that time. I was honest about what I thought of it; I really do think you’re a great writer, Bellamy,” Clarke said plaintively. He only nodded, his gaze on the floor. “I figured I’d finish it when you did the audiobook,” she added, which made his lips quirk up into a smile.

He ran a hand through his hair, observing her carefully. “So, what, you just noticed the acknowledgements today and drove over here?” he asked.

When he put it like that, it did sound like an overreaction. “I just— I thought you’d forgotten about me,” she admitted quietly.

The hard lines of his face morphed into something much more tender. “Clarke, I told you I never forgot you.”

“I know you said that,” she replied quickly. She remembered every detail of the first night they’d spent getting to know each other again. “But I don’t think I really believed you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I-I knew I didn’t mean the same thing to you as you did to me, so—”

Bellamy’s face twisted into another frown at that, his voice rough when he demanded, “Who says you didn’t mean the same to me?”

“You did!” Clarke exclaimed. “You told me yourself that you never thought of me as anything more than a friend! And that’s fine. I get it,” she rushed to continue, “but it doesn’t change the fact that I had feelings for you. You might not have been my first crush, but you were my first—” Her throat dried up as she grasped for the words to explain something she couldn’t quite understand herself. “I had never felt that way about anyone before. It was important to me.”

To her surprise, Bellamy looked even more annoyed at her admission. His face turned away from her as she poured her heart out.

“Just because I only thought of you as a friend,” he began gravely, “that doesn’t mean you weren’t important to me.”

“I know—“

“No,” he interrupted, rubbing a hand across his face, “Clarke, I don’t think you do.” He sighed and looked away again. “I mean, you were— You weren’t just my friend, you were my _best_ friend.” He looked imploringly at her, but she still didn’t understand. “I’d never had a best friend before you.”

Clarke blinked. That couldn’t be right. “But…” she began lamely. She’d seen so many people stop for a chat with Bellamy while they had worked together, even people who’d graduated from her high school and should really have known her rather than him. He’d told her plenty of stories about all the people he’d known growing up. Everyone had liked Bellamy, even adults. It seemed unfathomable that he could have made it to his twenties without having a best friend. “You were so popular,” she said finally.

Bellamy shrugged. “Maybe, but I was never _close_ to anyone apart from O and my mom.” He ducked his head. “You were the first person that I could really open up to. The first person who really knew me,” he finished, voice rough with emotion.

Clarke’s eyes pricked with tears.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t notice your feelings back then. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care, Clarke,” he said shakily.

She shook her head, blinking away tears. “Don’t apologise,” she said, dropping the towel to the floor, in a hurry to close the short distance between them. Clarke wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tucking her face into his neck. “_I’m_ sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, his arms tight across her back.

“For not being honest. You might not have been my first best friend, but you were always my _best_ best friend.”

“_Best_ best?” he repeated, laughing.

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh either. She thought it would be moving, but it was just lame. “Most best?” she suggested.

“Bestest?” he offered.

“Well, now you’re just making fun of me,” she pouted, breaking away.

He didn’t let her go far, though, his hands gentle on her waist. “Never,” he said softly. “And in the interest of being honest, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Clarke nodded sharply. “Me too.”

“Oh?”

She took a deep breath before asking, “Can I go first?”

Bellamy hesitated. But a moment later replied, “Sure.”

Clarke let her palms settle on his chest, focusing on her nails as she tried to find the courage to continue. “These past few weeks have felt like— Kind of like a dream. But now, it’s time to wake up,” she said heavily. “I know you have to go back to LA soon, and I totally support that.” Bellamy looked like he was about to interrupt, but she forced herself to continue, “I really do. You’re amazing at what you do, and I’m so proud of you.” She flashed him a genuine smile. “But I don’t want to lose my best friend again. All I ask is that when you’re off filming your next Netflix series, you remember to email or call your old friend Clarke. Because I won’t let what happened to us last time happen again—no matter how busy everything gets. I’m going to email you so much you’ll be sick of me,” she added with a laugh, but her smile faded when Bellamy didn’t join in.

“And is that _all_ you want?” he asked in a deep voice. “To be best friends again?”

Clarke bit her lip. Now was the time for honesty. She shook her head. “No,” she replied shakily. “But I know we can’t have anything more, and that’s okay—“

“Clarke,” he interrupted gently, a hand coming up to cup her face and wipe away the tear she didn’t notice falling down her cheek.

“It’s really fine, Bellamy. As long as we’re still friends,” she insisted, a brave smile on her face.

“Come here,” he murmured, leading her a few steps over to the bed.

He sat down on the edge, so she followed suit. Their legs were touching and his arm looped around her back, but Clarke still felt like they were too far apart. She wanted to sit in his lap and burrow her face in the crook of his neck. Instead, her hands fidgeted in her lap.

“Clarke, you know how we said we’d both decide by today what we’re going to do about work?”

“Yes. I wish I could say I’d decided to make a big change, but I haven’t. I don’t want to move somewhere else.”

“I’m glad. Because I don’t either.”

“Okay,” she said shakily, even though she’d known it was coming.

“No, Clarke,” he replied, humour seeping into his tone as he laced his fingers into hers. “I mean I don’t want to move from here.”

“What?” she said, suddenly twisting to look at him.

“Well, I’ll have to move out of this place,” he continued, a boyish grin on his face. “But I can find somewhere more permanent in Polis. Or Arcadia. As long as you wouldn’t mind me being _so_ close by.”

“Would I mind!” she exclaimed, still gaping at him in shock. “But I don’t understand.”

He ducked his head, shy. “There was one offer I hadn’t told you about. For a book.”

Clarke’s eyes lit up. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

“Because I didn’t want to write another non-fiction book, or a memoir, which was the publisher’s suggestion. I had to convince them I could write something else.”

“Bellamy, they’re going to publish one of your stories?” Clarke realised with growing excitement.

He nodded. “I’ve been working on the proposal the last few weeks. While Miller was here, we had a few meetings about it. They agreed this morning.”

“That’s amazing!”

He smirked. “Hopefully you’ll be able to finish this one.”

She shoved his shoulder, pouting. “I’m sorry, okay. I still feel bad about that. I’ll buy the audiobook.”

He chuckled. “I’ll still have to travel a bit, to work on things like the audiobook. But mostly, I’m going to be writing—and I can do that from anywhere, so…”

“You really wouldn’t mind doing that from here?”

“Clarke,” he said, twisting his hand so he clasped hers tightly. “You know why I came back here?”

“You said you wanted a break.”

“That’s why I wanted to get away,” Bellamy explained. “But the reason I chose Polis was because I realised living here with mom and O was the last time I’d really felt at home—but, when I got here, it just felt weird those first couple of days. It didn’t feel like coming home until I saw you again.”

Clarke inhaled sharply.

Bellamy’s smile was careful, but she could see the hope in his eyes. “I’m crazy about you, Clarke. I know it must seem fast but—“

He was cut off by Clarke launching herself into his lap. Bellamy caught her instinctively, wrapping his arms around her lower back as she straddled him and kissed him breathless.

“I love you,” Clarke said, beaming when she broke away. “I’m in love with you.”

Bellamy grinned, a mix of relief and joy on his face as he repeated her words back to her.

They were both smiling too hard to follow their words up with a proper kiss, but Clarke was so happy she didn’t care. She just wanted to be close to Bellamy, as close as she could get.

“You need to be wearing less clothes,” she complained, peppering his face with kisses.

“I think you need to let go of me for that to happen,” Bellamy replied, smiling as he nuzzled her cheek.

Clarke pouted, not relinquishing her tight grip. “I don’t want to do that either.”

Between kisses and a few laughs they eventually managed to remove each other’s sweaters, but despite Bellamy’s undeniable body heat, Clarke shivered at the cold.

“Let’s get under the covers,” he suggested.

It took some wriggling to get there, since neither wanted to break apart for long, but they eventually managed it. The pants Clarke had borrowed had started falling off her hips in the manoeuvre, though. She ended up kicking them off and locking her legs around Bellamy’s waist as he laid her down, moving them underneath the covers.

Tenderly, Bellamy gathered her hair in his hand and lifted it to lie on top of the pillow.

“Thank you,” Clarke whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

She brought him down for a long, slow kiss, revelling in the sensation of their bare skin pressed together. His body heat was warming her up, but more than that, the feeling of being close to him like this—no rush, no desire to do anything else but just lie in his arms—warmed her spirit.

When Bellamy started trailing kisses down her neck, Clarke ran her hands up and down his back, tracing the lines of his shoulder blades.

“Your tea must be getting cold,” Bellamy realised.

“This is better. Besides, I’m not thirsty.” She was starting to feel hungry, though she had no plans to mention it, not wanting to escape their magical moment just yet.

Bellamy moved to kiss the other side of her neck in response, keeping his arms pinned tightly against her.

“When did you decide?” she wondered, one hand tangled in his curls. “That you were going to stay?”

“Last week. After dinner at Gina’s.”

_A whole week ago? _Clarke thought. “Really? How?”

Bellamy stopped kissing her neck and rose slightly to answer her, which was a shame, but his chest was still flush with hers, so she couldn’t complain too much.

“You said we should think about what we wanted outside of work first, and I knew I wanted to be with you. I’d been thinking it already, but that’s when it really clicked.”

“Yeah?” Clarke asked shyly, a smile growing on her lips.

“Yeah.” Bellamy grinned down at her. He quirked a brow before adding, “Honestly, I thought you’d already figured it out by then.”

“You didn’t say anything about us after suggesting we become friends with benefits. What was I supposed to think?”

Bellamy chuckled. “Okay, yeah, I could have said something, but we were spending so much time together, I thought I didn’t need to. And I asked you to come to dinner that night. Do you think I would have taken just anyone to Gina’s?”

Clarke’s eyes grew wide. “You said it wasn’t a big deal!”

“Because you seemed so worried about it!”

“And that didn’t make you realise I didn’t know how you felt?”

“I thought maybe it was just weirdness over meeting Gina since we used to be married. You never talked to her much when we started dating—though I guess now I know you had a big crush on me, that makes more sense.”

Clarke flushed at the cheeky grin on his face. “I was seventeen, okay? I didn’t know how to handle jealousy in a mature way yet.”

Bellamy kissed her cheek, lowering himself to snuggle against her side. “If it makes you feel any better, Gina told me she wasn’t surprised at all when I mentioned I had reconnected with you.”

“Really?” Clarke asked, rolling so they didn’t lose contact.

“I didn’t think I had talked about you that much, but I guess I was pretty down for a while after we lost touch, and she was there for all that.”

Clarke frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Bellamy said, tracing his thumb over her cheek. “We both let it happen. I don’t want to be stuck in the past any longer.”

“Yeah. I want—“ Clarke was cut off by an obnoxious grumbling emanating from her stomach.

“Food?” Bellamy suggested with a chuckle as Clarke hid her face in his shoulder.

“I guess I am a little hungry,” she admitted.

“I’ve got stuff in the fridge,” he said, starting to break away from her, but she put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I don’t want to get out of bed either.”

He smirked, but continued his slide out of her arms despite Clarke’s protests.

“I can rustle something up,” Bellamy said as he left the warmth of the duvet.

“But I don’t want you to go.” She pouted even as she tugged the duvet close around her body, missing Bellamy’s body heat. And him.

He pulled his sweater back on and turned to her with a grin. Leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. “Hey,” he whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this update!  
The moodboard for this fic is [here on tumblr](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/615582582305964032/useyourtelescope-if-the-right-one-came-along-a).


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